


Sanction of the Victims

by Krivoklatsko



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 20:58:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 23,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4320453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krivoklatsko/pseuds/Krivoklatsko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuvira has been sentenced to death. There is a plot to rescue her. Team Avatar has one week to unravel the plot and change the sentence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Asami no longer slept without stimulation. She laid her head on Air Temple Island with radio static humming her to sleep. The week prior, she had slept in the spirit world, and Korra had been her distraction. She did not know what would happen now. And though she drifted to sleep, she did so in fear of the nightmare creeping at her peripheries.

She heard Zhu Li’s radio open- a long pause of static while she thought.

“Ok. We have visual, here. Colossus is entering the kill zone. Sato, are you with me?”

Asami had to look down and check her joysticks for the switch. She saw her father’s hair in the cockpit below her, and the quick work of his fingers adjusting his saw reticle. She thumbed her mic open.

“On your Five, Zhu Li. Closing.”

Her own commitment stunned her. When her mic released, she heard for a long time the wings of the Varrick Wasp thrumming as fast as her heart. She could pilot a car, but flying was a whole new skill. And here she was on a hair-brained plan to save the world. They had the Avatar on their side. Now, all they needed was luck.

“Dad?”

“What is it, Asami?”

“We’re ready for this. Right?”

“I will be honest, Asami.”

He looked up from his targeting reticles. He did not see as they rounded Cabbage Corp Tower and the platinum colossus came into view.

“I have always dreamed of destroying a giant robot.”

He smiled, seeing her resist a giggle.

“Me too, dad.”

Static interrupted.

“Zhu Li, how do you work this thing?”

“Here. Let me. Varrick, stop touching it and focus! Asami, we’re moving into range. I’ll stay over Kuvira’s right shoulder. Aim low while we distract her. Remember the plan, and stay mobile.”

Hiroshi chuckled as she finished.

“She’s quite bossy. She reminds me of your mother.”

Asami had to shake that thought aside. Her mother was gone. But her father was there. The nightmare was only in her peripheries, waiting.

“Ok. I’m going in. Ready, Dad?”

“I’m ready, Asami.”

 

She felt her grip on two joysticks, and the seamless reaction time with the wings. She and Hiroshi had perfected this flying machine as a team. They were together on this problem and solution for the first time in years. Like Zhu Li and Varrick, this family was now united. She thumbed her radio open. a giant fist passed too close to her vehicle.

  
“Zhu Li, we’re drawing most of her attention. Can you make a move?”

“Roger. Varrick and I are engaging.”

 

The nightmare sharpened, and her heart rate purred like a racing Satomobile. Her body tensed. The controls responded to her every feeling. She made a buzz past the bridge of the colossus, past the sight of Kuvira's graceful motions. She saw Kuvira’s Kata, then saw it mimicked when the dance played out across the golem’s body. Kuvira met eyes with her, and Asami realized with a jolt of fear that they were dancing together.

“Something’s wrong,” her father mumbled.

“Kinda busy, Dad.”

She had two arms to keep track of, and the closer she got to Kuvira’s attention, the faster the arms seemed to move. Her father scanned the ground battle with concern.

“I can’t see Korra from here. Is she in position?”

Asami dived to save them from a swinging arm. The feeling of her seat falling out from under her lurched every organ she had.

“Zhu Li, I’m diving out! Watch yourself.”

“I see her! Varrick, retract. We’re waiving off.”

And the dance continued.

“There she is,” Hiroshi murmured.

“Alright, Dad. Zhu Li is drawing their attention. We’re up next. Get the saw ready.”

Her father focused, and she felt with him the sudden connection she’d had before with Korra. It was the assurance of competency. She saw his reticle light up and their landing gear extend under his control.

“The flat surface on the right thigh, just below the hip,” he asserted.

“I see it. Closing.”

“Too fast.”

“Gotta save time, Dad.”

“Too fast!”

“Fine. Slowing.”

“Three-hundred meters. Two-hundred. One. Fifty, forty, easy, easy. There.”

 

She flared the wings back and felt her wasp clank against the colossus’ thigh. The sound of an arc-saw flared up just as they landed, and her father’s half of the cockpit lit up like a star. She barely heard her radio under the sound of cutting.

“Asami, we’re pulling back! Watch your ten, high!”

She looked up, saw the arm coming down on her.

“Dad, retract! We’re moving!”

 

And the dance continued. Asami had more brainpower to spare than piloting required. She imagined herself as Kuvira. She imagined what the power-addled woman was seeing, and if she would realize how close she was to the canal and a pissed-off avatar. Her next pass over the colossus’ bridge ended that meta-game. The shock of realization was on Kuvira’s face. Zhu Li’s voice on the radio confirmed it.

“She’s turning out of the kill-zone! Asami, it’s now or never! I’m signaling Korra! You have the longest cut, so you move in! On three.”

A flare spat from Zhu Li’s Wasp.

“One.”

The memory of what happened next began to claw at Asami’s mind. She denied it. Her mind ran through courses of action, and the rapid degradation of their tactical situation shook every muscle in her body.

“Two.”

“Sorry, Dad, but we’re going in hot this time!”

“I understand.”

“Three!”

The coordination had to be perfect. Zhu Li committed her wasp to Kuvira’s attention. Asami cut her engine, and her father trusted that their forward V was enough to land them right on target. Asami had never learned to pray or meditate or standardized a hope. But she hoped with all of her might that Korra would waterbend in time. She brought her wings back online just as the trap sprang. Bolts of ice leapt up from the canal and entombed the colossus. Avatar Korra had just erected a skyscraper in the blink of an eye.

Asami lit up her engine and heaved back on the joysticks, felt her weight increase as the wasp struggled to a hover, heard her father’s methodical worry.  
“seven-hundred meters, Four-hundred, three, two, One, Asami?”

Clank.

Asami did not watch her father work this time. Her eyes rose to the battle above them. She saw as the colossus’s right arm cracked free. Here, the nightmare faltered in its grip, and she realized with an uninhibited dread what would happen next. And she realized that she could not change it.

The arm swung free in a sudden jerk. She saw smoke and fire burst from the other wasp. There was no radio static. Zhu Li punched her mic, broadcasting a bitonal wail as harmony to her melodious panic.

“Hydraulic failure! Asami, we’re punching out! You’re on your own! HOLD ON!”

A chunk of ice landed on Asami’s windshield. She glanced down to her father.

“Dad?”

He did not flinch from his work. The cut was now a semi-circle.

“This is our last chance, Asami.”

“Dad, we have to move.”

“Almost there.”

A shadow eclipsed them. Asami saw the palm of the golem descending.

“Dad. Dad! We have to waive off!”

“Almost there.”

She saw three-quarters of the hole completed. In reality, she had felt hope. She had imagined laughing this moment off with her father over a game of Pai Sho. She felt only fear now, and an intense need to not be living in this nightmare. She remembered the last embrace of her mother. She remembered every beaming smile of pride her father had cast her way. She remembered her first kiss with Korra in the Spirit World. All three of their voices were as one.

“I love you.”

“No. No! NO! I’m pulling us out, this time!”

She jerked on the joysticks, but they did not move. Across her dashboard lit up an array of red lights, led by a blinker, “Lockout-” then darkness consumed her panels. Her father’s hand rested on her seat ejector. He had looked up, to face her with a smile. She could not refuse her sob.

“Dad?”

“Goodbye, Asami.”

No controls responded. She did not have control. The rear hatch popped, air hissing in and whirling her hair into action. She felt it all as if struggling through ocean water. She saw in perfect detail and terribly slow motion as the boosters under her seat ignited. The chair lifted like a kite on a light wind, and she struggled with all of her might to reach over her display and grab her father, to take him with her.

Then she felt G forces. The chair ripped her from his presence, and he was crushed with the horrible sound of metal annihilating metal. Her spirit slammed back into her body as it shot upright in bed. She was woken by her own screams defying tragedy. Her voice was sore. And though her senses returned, her father did not. And she did not stop screaming.


	2. Chapter 2

Baatar Beifong jr. set an olivine envelope on the table before him. The envelope was a rectangle, its dimensions and color scalable to the room. All furniture and fixtures were a new Varrick Industries material, hinges included. Baatar wore the colors of the Earth Empire, minus all metal, and minus his rank. He took a hard fought breath. It had been easy over the past week. It got harder as he thought more.

“Kuvira,” he started.

  
She wore a prison uniform now, but Republic City allowed her the tools to maintain her appearance. She still had the stature of a warrior empress.  
“I’m sorry,” Baatar finished.

  
He slid the envelope to her. Kuvira saw that he was sad. This, and nothing else, saddened her. She had given up all hope for herself the moment her shackles clicked. Her only hope now was for Baatar, that he would feel anything other than her betrayal. His voice was hollow.

“Inside this envelope is a legal certificate containing the court proceedings, findings, and verdict. It was assembled by court recorders and delivered to me by an officer of the law this morning. You are going to be executed at the end of next week.”  
He awaited a reaction to this news. There was none. Kuvira had cried in preparation. She let him speak again.

“I’ve done everything I can, but getting a verdict within a month is unheard of. People just want you dead.”

Baatar emoted first, his exasperation coming through. Kuvira let a kind smile slip.

“You can’t reason someone out of a position they weren’t reasoned into.”

In her mind, this was a reference to her defeat, to the moment the Avatar had to literally beat her to end the violence. But she was speaking to Baatar, and reminding him of their first real date. He didn’t want to be reminded of what he was losing- had lost.

“I’m sorry, Kuvira. I don’t think there’s anything more I can do for you.”  
“I think there is.”  
She reached for his hand. Baatar stood to leave.  
“I don’t think that would be appropriate, Kuvira.”  
“I’ve been locked in a cell for a month. Excuse me if I want some support from my lover.”

Her words did not cause the struggle within him. Baatar was struggling with his own feelings. But the court had given him closure, if not justice, and he was finally able to give Kuvira that same closure.

“It isn’t about what you want anymore.”

He left her, and a large part of himself, in that room.

The Beifongs stuck together, despite their best efforts. Outside Kuvira’s visiting room were Lin and Suyin. Baatar took a bench and buried his hands beside his mother. His aunt Lin, The police chief, looked especially upset today. Among the reunion was another. Zhu Li Moon- Zhu Li Varrick, now. She had also donned her old uniform. The court’s sentence made this day perfect for everyone’s last words. Zhu Li did not address Baatar as she passed him and entered the visiting room. She had a debriefing prepared on Earth Empire letterhead.

  
Looking up from the bench, he saw the header, “YOU LOST.”

Then Baatar buried his face and let Suyin’s hand on his back comfort him.

“I want you to know, I’m proud of you, Baatar. You are instilling the procedures of justice in the international community. It takes a very level head to do that when… Well… We know how you feel about her.”

They didn’t.

“I... Hate her. I still love her, but…”

He got a light hug from his mother. He felt a light smile in her tone.

“Well… Kuvira’s a complicated person.”

“You have no idea, Mom.”

He remembered the night she cast a sideways glance at Zaofu. Somewhere along the campaign she had started sleeping with a map of the Earth Kingdom in view of the bed. She dressed in front of it. She brushed her teeth in front of it. Every orgasm began with her rolling on top so she could see it. Most nights didn’t get that far.

The night before Zaofu was an objective, she froze up in bed. It was something he’d said, Baatar knew. Too many movements and smells and thoughts reminded her of times she didn’t talk about. Baatar, and Baatar alone, was the one she trusted to see this weakest side of her. Kuvira curled up against him, naked and shivering with fear. In all other moments, she demanded that Baatar need her, that he grovel in every way and give her power. But in this moment, it was she who needed him.

Their sex ended abruptly, without climax, and she wept in his arms, unresponsive. Moments later, she resumed her imperialism without explanation. There was a long hour of silence while she sat on the edge of the bed. She was staring at the map.

“I know how we’re going to capture Zaofu,” she finally confided.

“We’re going to what?”

She turned to him, her emerald eyes glowing in reflected moonlight.

“I’m going to duel the Avatar.”

There were many long nights of arguing, but in the end, Kuvira had been right. She said she saw in Avatar Korra everything about herself that was weak. She saw the same traumas clawing at their psyches. She had been right.

And all his mother knew about it was, “Kuvira’s a complicated person.”

Baatar preferred her sister’s perspective.

“She’s getting what she deserves,” Lin growled.

Suyin had a hand on her son. She extended the other to the Chief.

“There’s no need to be jealous, Lin. We’re here to visit you, too.”

Lin had a brief moment to accept that gesture. She hesitated, and the moment was broken by Zhu Li returning from the visitor’s room. Lin straightened her uniform.

 

“You’re here to see the Avatar, Suyin. But I’m glad I could fit into your schedule.”

The scar on her cheek itched. Her family could always tell this by the way it twitched when she was uncomfortable. Suyin felt as if the scar was on her own body every time she saw it. And she was tired of having it.

“Lin, please. Be reasonable. I came here to support Baatar and visit my sister. There’s no way we could have known when Korra would return from the spirit world.”

“Or whom with,” Zhu Li noted.

She had stopped beside Baatar. She had words for him, since this would be the last reunion of Kuvira’s inner circle.

Suyin aimed her disapproval, another smile from her armory of motherly expressions, at Zhu Li’s boldness.

“I don’t understand why you’re all trying to start rumors. Asami and Korra are very close friends, and they’ve been through a lot together. Isn’t that enough for two friends to go on a vacation alone?”

She had hardly finished before Lin scoffed.

“Oh, please, Su. You had Asami pegged for a dyke the moment she sat at your table.”

“That doesn’t mean Korra reciprocates.”

“She’s twenty,” Lin pointed, “kids will take what they can get.”

“You would know,” Suyin quipped. This variant of her smile was a pleased victory. She had been seeking a reaction, and getting Zhu Li to blush was even better than her sister’s angry flush.

But Zhu Li was blushing elsewhere. They all turned down the hallway, to Asami Sato. Her expression revealed that she had heard enough.

“Well…” she mused, “The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about.”

Suyin kept a hand on her son, and covered her heart with the other.

“Oh, darling, you can’t blame us for wondering how you and Korra were doing.”

“Or what you were doing,” Lin smirked.

Asami was fond of social games. She returned the smirk with a suggestive, “You can ask.”

No one dared.

Baatar cleared his throat. Lin bristled, and, seeking something else to discuss, remembered why they were there.

“Will anyone else be visiting Kuvira? This is a prison, not a park.”

Suyin nodded, flustered, “Yes. Sorry. I won’t be long.”

And she did walk quickly to the visitation room, leaving Baatar buried in his hands in an attempt to disengage from reality.

Asami and Zhu Li smiled to each other. It was a meek gesture. Asami was clearly confused by the uniforms.

“So… Kuvira’s getting a lot of company today.”

She turned the question to Lin, who was happy to tell everyone she knew about the execution.

“You haven’t heard?”

“No.”

Zhu Li chimed in and stole Lin’s gleeful duty.

“An International court hosted by the United Republic of Nations has found Kuvira guilty on charges of high treason, crimes against humanity, and High Crimes against the Avatar.”

Zhu Li had perfected a professional tone in hopes that people would listen to her. Asami only heard what was relevant to her new life.

“What? But Korra didn’t press any charges!”

Righteous outrage flashed over her features. Her mind raced for someone to blame, and Baatar looked up in time to receive it.

“How did you let them get away with that?”

“The first two charges could have her hanged on their own,” Baatar noted.

“But… We’ve only been gone a week! That’s not enough time to have a proper trial! Can’t- Isn’t there an appeal?”

“No.”

Baatar was in mourning. Asami’s posture remained strong, but her head bowed, and she muted her aural happiness out of respect. Lin only appeared disgusted.

“I don’t understand why you all sympathize with her.”

“I don’t know how I feel about an execution,” Asami murmured, “But I know how Korra’s going to feel about it.”

She sighed.

“Well, honeymoon’s over.”

She realized the admission too late. The realization flared up in her eyes.

Zhu Li, blushing, seized on it.

“Doesn’t look like you had a lot of rest.”

Asami didn’t have a chance to react. The door to Kuvira’s visiting cell slammed open for a furious Suyin, erect and alarmed. In her arm was cradled the envelope Baatar had brought for Kuvira. She power-walked it to the bench and thrust it at her son with a single word.

“Explain.”

Baatar shook the envelope into his hand. There was a short message inside: “Be ready to leave at midnight,” on Earth Empire letterhead.

Baatar had no way to prove it, but he was shocked.

He did not resist when Lin stepped forward and seized him.


	3. Chapter 3

When Korra had first come to Air Temple Island, it had been the best week of her life. When she woke this morning, her feelings and this place coupled, and she was reminded of that first week, then of the week she’d just had in the spirit world.

She did not wake with Asami beside her. But she woke with the lopsided smile she’d forgotten for so many years. Down at the breakfast table, she stuffed her face and wondered where she should sprint to find Asami. It wasn’t until they spoke that Korra remembered the other people in the room.

“Hey, Mom?”

Ikki chewed around the words.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Ikki,” Pema moaned.

Korra angled the bowl she was shoveling from so that she could watch the conversation in her peripheries. Pema’s eyes had yet to fully open. She had cooked in her sleep and was now eating breakfast through stifled yawns. Tenzin was still in bed, so Opal had his seat.

Ikki swallowed to continue.

“Mom, I thought we were going to live in the Northern Air Temple. Why did we come back to Air Temple Island?”

With those words, she’d bitten more than she could chew. The pressure of Pema’s frustration forced her eyelids open.

“Well, sweetie,” she cooed over a seething growl, “your daddy wants to be a _nomad_!”

Korra, still scooping from a tilted bowl, tried to sympathize.

“The Island’s a nice place.”

“Mouth. Full,” Pema growled.

Korra realized her mistake nervously and pressed her lips into the tightest apologetic smile she could manage. Opal was the only perfectly mannered guest. She sat erect at Pema’s side and had her chopsticks gripped in the noble fashion. She seized on the silence.

“Why are you eating so fast, Korra?”

“Because she wants to go see _Asami_ ,” Ikki teased.

The rumors had spread before the confirmation of the relationship. To many, the rumors were more official than the admission. Korra blushed, remembering the night prior. She and Asami had tried to sleep in the same room. Pema had met them at the door.

“Now look, ladies: I haven’t had a good night’s sleep for two months, and I haven’t had privacy with my husband since Meelo was born. You are _not_ keeping me up tonight!”

So Asami slept on the other side of the compound, with Opal as her guard.

“Asami had a bad dream last night,” Opal confided.

The mention of her lover brought Korra back into the present. She angled her rice bowl to see Opal, then Jinora, when she spoke up.

“Opal! No! That’s rude. Asami told you to keep that a secret!”

“You only know that because you were eavesdropping, Jinora.”

Korra had trouble moving the bowl so much while she ate. She lowered it enough to speak.

“Where is she, anyway? Asami’s usually up before I am.”

“She got up around midnight and took the ferry,” Opal asserted.

“Opal!”

“Jinora, it isn’t your business!”

The bickering ended abruptly. A realization swept the room. Korra had lowered her rice bowl and her smile and her mood.

“She what?”

There was nothing Pema could say, but she knew there was probably one thing that Korra should not do.

“Maybe she just needs some space, Korra. And you should finish eating breakfast.”

She offered an inviting smile, trying to make up for her lackluster morning’s presentation. By the time she opened her eyes again, Korra had swiped a glider stick and exited. Then she ran back in and pointed at Opal.

“Where’d she say she was going?”

“The…”

Opal seized the truth between her teeth. Korra pointed at her harder.

“I think she needs some space,” Opal murmured.

It was around then that Korra realized Asami’s intention. Asami had left because she _didn’t_ want to be followed. There could be a lot of reasons for this. None of the happy reasons came to mind. Korra remembered their first kiss. It had been sudden, and until the end of their first week, foreplay was an unknown art. Everything had happened, and all of it had happened so fast. Maybe it was too fast for Asami. Maybe this wasn’t what she wanted and it was all just in the moment. Maybe Asami needed space so that she could think about what she wanted. Maybe she would decide that she didn’t want this.

 _That’s_ _okay_ , Korra reminded herself. _Asami is your friend._ It did not take long to realize that they had been more than friends for a week. And that maybe Asami couldn’t go back to that. Maybe she needed more space than what Korra wanted to give her.

_But you will give her that space. You know she needs it after what she’s been through. You know you have to let her choose._

Korra had not moved in her thinking. She was still rigidly posed with a kite-staff gripped in one hand and the other curled into an offensive point. But now she felt cold air against a fiery face, and the slow trickle of water bending down her cheeks. The only thing she didn’t feel was grounded.

“What do you mean ‘she needs some space,’ Opal?”

“She didn’t say, Korra. I’m sorry.”

“But she told you where she’s going.”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me.”

Korra was not in the business of bullying anymore. In her tone, she had stopped just short of saying “please.” The pressure in that wavering voice was stronger than any bullying could be. Opal shifted in her seat, then turned to Jinora for reassurance. She needed someone to tell her how to say no. But now Jinora had been swayed. She looked down.

“She said she’s going to the police station,” Opal whispered.

“Why?”

No one had to answer. The last _maybe_ was too much for Korra. If Asami didn’t want this, she would want something familiar. She was going to see Mako. So was Korra.

She landed through the window, minutes later, and rolled into a power stance at the head of his desk.

“What’s going on between you and Asami!” was her introduction.

She missed the red scarf he used to wear, but she forced that thought aside and remembered that she was supposed to be mad.

“Oh. Hey, Korra,” he droned.

He finished reading a printed page before looking up. His eyes shot first to the window Korra had crashed through, then to his coworkers, who were giving this gossip their full attention. He glanced to the Chief’s office, and saw that Beifong had exercised her metal bending to open the door and watch with a dry smile. She adjusted her seating for maximum enjoyment. Mako’s eyes finally rose to Korra.

“Korra, whatever this is, can we do it somewhere else?”

“Where. Is. Asami.”

“And where’s my ex, while you’re at it,” another detective jeered.

Mako bristled and shouted him down.

“That had nothing to do with me! And neither does this, Korra. I haven’t seen Asami since you took her to the spirit world.”

“Well I know that isn’t true, Mako! Opal just told me that Asami said she was coming to the police station! The only reason she would do that is if she was visiting _YOU_!”

She forced her staff at his chest. These were fighting words, and a part of her realized too late that Mako would fight. But he didn’t. His face fell, a look of sympathy and sadness overtaking his agitation. She saw that mimicked across the whole department as she scanned their faces.

“What? What is it? Is Asami in trouble?”

Her answer came from Chief Lin Beifong, who lifted a telephone from her desk and dialed across a turntable. There was silence. She stared into Korra’s eyes, keeping her attention while she waited for the other end to answer.

“Warden? Chief. Yeah. Kuvira’s got another visitor.”  


	4. Chapter 4

Iknik Blackstone Varrick and Zhu Li Varrick spent most of their honeymoon on land. Today, they were scheduled to sunbathe atop the battleship _Zhu Li_. Both women had been refurbished recently. Zhu Li lost ten pounds a day ahead of schedule, and was very happy to see that the bathing suit she’d bought in preparation was exactly as she imagined. _Zhu Li_ had an expanded deck to accommodate the new runway, and bobbed very happily in Republic City Bay.

Varrick was staring at the sun through a new invention. It did not satisfy him, so he tossed it aside and tried another. In the process, he wondered who would clean up the mess, then remembered that his wife would not, anymore. _Wife_ , he remembered. It was a realization that occurred several times a day. He smiled, and struck up a conversation with no chance of failure.

“You talked to Kuvira today, right? How is she?”

He saw Zhu Li return his attention, and he felt very normal for a brief moment. She smiled and reminded him that he was special.

“Remember when Asami Sato sold her father’s company to you?”

“Yeah?”

“Like that.”

“What?”

“That’s how Kuvira’s doing.”

“Oh,” he remembered, “good.”

He watched Republic City bob against the sea. The concept of parallax, and its use in movers, occurred to him. Then he remembered that Zhu Li had married him and helped him destroy a giant robot last week. He smiled.

“You know, Zhu Li, something’s just occurred to me.”

“We have to hire a new assistant,” she answered.

He hadn’t married her for looks. That was a bonus.

“Exactly! But if I try to hire somebody-“

“-I wouldn’t approve.”

“Right. Right.”

He pondered the qualities of his wife’s image. There was no camera that could capture it yet, and there needed to be for when his memory would fail. But Zhu Li’s memory was perfect. Who could assist her? She never forgot important stuff. If anything, her memory was so advanced, it was accurate for the future.

“But… Fortunately…” her thought aloud, “I don’t need to find someone you’ll approve of. Because…”

Zhu Li smiled again.

“Yes, Varrick. I’ve already found one.”

“You’re the best investment I’ve ever made, Zhu Li.”

His mind wandered in a moment of silence. Zhu Li spent the time gloating to herself. She’d sowed hard, and now she was reaping harder.

“Hey, speaking of Asami Sato…” Varrick thought aloud.

Zhu Li scowled, then corrected her features and awaited an explanation.

“Remember when all that stuff went down in the newspapers about Amon? You know, Equalists and explosions. Apparently, Ms. Sato held her own in a couple of fights while the Avatar got _whacked_! And, now that I’m married to you, I feel like, well, I don’t know…”

She understood. Zhu Li let a blush play out without resistance.

“You feel like you have to defend me, Varrick?”

“I, uh- I mean, I guess it’s the manly thing to do. The problem is, I don’t know any… You know… _Body Bending_.”

He blushed and hid it when she giggled.

“We have a few of those types aboard.The security team hired a wave of non-benders yesterday. One can give us sparring lessons, if you’d like.”

“Of course I’d like that! What are we still doing out here?”

“Sunbathing.”

“Oh. Right.”

He sat up.

“Well, we’ve been at it for half-an hour. Let’s get out of here.”

Zhu Li did not move with him. Varrick noticed this, and very nervously altered his decision.

“I mean… What would you like to do, Zhu Li?”

His training was going well. Another few months and she would introduce him to mother. She patted his knee and sat up.

“Let’s go learn to fight benders, Varrick.”

 

 _Zhu Li_ had a sparring room. Zhu Li and Varrick addressed each other in proper sparring gi and bowed to each other, giggling. Their non-bending employee was dressed likewise, and bowed likewise when he entered the room. His height was between theirs. The distinctive black hair and strong jaw of the water-tribe reminded Zhu Li of her husband. But it was clear that behind the middle-aged proficiency of this man’s body, that he was tired beyond his years. He projected his voice well, but it was an effort.

“Good afternoon, Sir. And Mrs. My name is Søren. Today I will be teaching you the basics of hand-to-hand combat. These techniques are invaluable tools of Self Defense for novices and masters alike. So I hope that if you ever need them in a fight, they will be enough for you to disengage from your attacker and then to run away.”

It was Zhu Li who noted the details she could about this man. Varrick had been focusing on new details of Zhu Li. He heard something about running away and blurted, “But we’ll get to the good stuff eventually, right?”

Søren nodded, not caring to argue.

“Sure, if you’ve got a couple decades to spare.”

His lackadaisical answer contrasted with the somber and serious pomp of his spiel. This alerted Zhu Li, then triggered her near perfect memory.

“You were an Equalist- a Chi Blocker,” she blurted.

Varrick and Søren wore the same expression: first shock, then awkwardness.

“Well…” he admitted, “You’re not _wrong_ , Mrs. Varrick.”

 _Mr._ Varrick only really cared about the details. He pointed as if to indicate the answer would affect employment status.

“You weren’t one of those people running around blowing up Republic City, were you?”

This was another topic Søren had a serious, somber spiel for.

“My participation in the movement never extended beyond self-defense education. Now that the movement is gone, my work as a martial artist continues as normal.”

“Your _work_ ,” Zhu Li noted. She knew more about it than he was admitting.

“I’m sorry, Varrick. I can’t do this.”

She tugged at her gi. The clothing associated with the sparring was becoming too much for her. It was all tying itself to something a perfect memory couldn’t forget.

Varrick, ever aware, tried to follow her meaning.

“You want me to fire him?”

“No. I… Could you leave us, Søren?”

She fired an apologetic but non-negotiable expression to the guard. He bowed.

“As you wish.”

But as he left, her memory fired again, and she turned to direct it over her shoulder at him.

“Lieutenant Søren. Did you find your daughter?”

He stopped, one foot out the porthole.

“No, Mrs. Varrick.”

“We will keep searching,” she promised.

He turned to face her, and she saw again that he was tired beyond his years.

“Thank you, Mrs. Varrick,” he mumbled, “but I’ve moved on.”

Then he left, not awaiting another dismissal. Varrick decided on that moment to catch up. He brought his wife into a consoling hug, because his understanding only grasped that she was unhappy and needed comforting.

“Hey, so, Zhu Li? I feel like that time I lost the Nuktuk script- except for the last five pages. Boy was that a good five pages, though! They loved it! Didn’t even matter that we made up the rest of it as we went. But seriously, what’s the backstory on what just happened there?”

His answer was intimacy. Zhu Li knew the only way to shut him up, and she seized his mouth with hers, then buried her face in his chest. In her mind, Varrick’s silence meant that he understood. In his, erratic behavior was something to be treated with caution. So he held very still while Zhu Li anchored herself this rock and let fear toss her about. Sometimes, the memories would just come to her without summons.

She was walking beside Kuvira and a helmed officer she didn’t know. Their uniforms had been pristine in the morning, but little clouds of talc dust kicked up at their heels with every step. Green canvas tents hung around them in circles, prefabbed metal cubes making up the more important structures. The overwhelming feature was the landscape they’d settled in. Zaofu loomed overhead, ten klicks north.

It wasn’t long before that Zhu Li had met, then betrayed Suyin’s family. The chance of rescuing Varrick and saving his work from evildoers grew slimmer as the moments between them grew broader.

The left cuff of her uniform had a loose thread that she would fix herself at 1600. Kuvira was speaking to the helmed soldier beside them.

“Lieutenant Søren. I’m glad to see you’re still alive.”

“As am I, Great Uniter.”

She handed him a folder.

“I’m sending you back to Republic City. You’ll be heading another task force. After Ba Sing Sei, I’m confident you can navigate the important circles of a city’s infrastructure. Build a network, and make sure they are ready to be reunited with the Earth Empire. And before you ask…”

Kuvira directed them into a metal prefab. This was a sparring room, with a small circle in the center for point defense training. It was here that she stopped the party, and turned to her Lieutenant.

“I haven’t forgotten about your daughter, Søren. I need all of my men for Zaofu, but after the city is ours every tracker and assassin in my army will be scouring the empire for her. We will find her. How long do you need in Republic City?”

“A month, if my old acquaintances are still there.”

“Then go. Thank you, for everything, Lieutenant.”

“Thank you, Great Uniter.”

He saluted, then left. Zhu Li bristled when Kuvira turned to her.

“Loyalty in my circle is tested, and then rewarded.”

It didn’t take Zhu Li long to figure out.

“You want to test me now.”

“Yes.”

Kuvira smiled. It was an expression of temperance, not joy.

“Strip,” she ordered.

And to illustrate, Kuvira removed her uniform. She stopped at her undershirt and boxer shorts. She was bruised, heavily. Five points ranged from hip to arm along her Chi paths, each splotched purple.

“Lieutenant Søren is an expert Chi blocker,” Kuvira explained, “and I wanted to understand his art.”

She rolled her head and shoulders in preparation for exercise, then eyed Zhu Li, who had hesitated.

“Great Uniter,” Zhu Li mumbled, “I’m not dressed for sparring.”

“I said strip.”

So she did. This was for Varrick. An hour after that exercise, she was finally alone. She wore all the splotches that she had seen on Kuvira. She hugged a blanket tight. The time was 2033, and she had not fixed the loose strand of her uniform. She had been ordered to sleep in Kuvira’s quarters. A standing map of the Earth Kingdom was beside the bed.

She was afraid. Every part of her body hurt. Nausea swept through her in waves as her Chi paths opened or swelled shut. For the whole time she had been apart from Varrick, she thought only of him. But now she thought only of herself, of avoiding the pain of Kuvira’s scrutiny. The overwhelming desire to obey was taking hold of her mind for whole minutes at a time. She shivered under the blankets. 2034. Kuvira never retired to her quarters later than 2040. Zhu Li did not know what would happen when she did.

This mix of submission and fear was only relieved by the sound of footsteps. Zhu Li did not have her wits in that moment. She rolled over in bed with her hands up and screamed what she was thinking.

“Don’t hurt me!”

She met eyes with Suyin Beifong. There was a brief moment of confusion, then of realization, then of euphoria. This wasn’t Kuvira. This was her friends coming to kill Kuvira, and they’d fallen right into her trap. And that meant Zhu Liu was bait. And that meant Zhu Li was trusted.

Her mind returned to the present. She wrapped her arms around Varrick and gripped him tighter. Her plots had worked. She had to remind herself that she was safe now- That Kuvira would soon be dead.

“I’m so glad that awful war is over,” she whispered.

“Me, too, Zhu Li.”

Varrick kissed her forehead, then lit up with a great idea.

“No. It isn’t! Zhu Li, if there’s anything I’ve learned about project management, it’s how to end a project. You can’t just move engineers to other departments, because they’re obsessed! They just keep working on what they wanted to! The only way to get people’s minds off something big- Like a WAR- is to throw an official party that says ‘We’re Done!’ And look at this! We’re already on a boat! Let’s party the war away!”


	5. Chapter 5

Koko felt naked too often. Wearing armor helped, but it wasn’t Kyoshi armor. She rubbed black camo paint under her eyelids on a training op last week, and it reminded her too much that it wasn’t Kyoshi’s visage. She was selling her culture out. And the only excuse she had was her age. So when parties happened, she got there first and tried to prove that the next generation was still hers.  
Varrick had called for a party aboard Zhu Li. She was pregaming in the rec room when the first staff entered.  
“Hey, You! You’re an Earth-Bender, right? You think you’re strong? Come here.”  
Arm wrestling. The looser finished her liquor for her.  
“Hey! Hotshot! I challenge you to an Agni Kai!”  
“But, Koko, you aren’t a-“  
She flicked a lighter and spit liquor at him. He left to change his pants. There was laughter. Koko hadn’t finished proving she was young by the time Søren entered. He advertised a pot full of noodles and set it on the kitchen bar in the corner as his offering, then tiredly brought himself to Koko’s table.  
“Hey, Kokoyon.”  
He flashed a smile for Koko, traded a joke with the others at her table, and then nodded a general hello to the other table. Everyone on the security team who could bend sat at the other table. Everyone who could not, didn’t. The segregation was never discussed. Koko watched Søren’s face as he talked, and she analyzed his shifting expressions as he noted those thoughts. Then his face settled back on her, and she felt naked. She felt young. She didn’t want to keep staring, and she didn’t want to look away.  
“So the war’s over now?” she managed to say.  
Søren bobbed his head from side to side. He had the same problem, and only noticed with a sheepish look that everyone else at the table was watching them with amused excitement. It wouldn’t be the first meeting they’d left together.  
“So… How ‘bout that pro bending match?”  
Søren forced the suggestion to the crowd, and it was taken up for a brief second. Someone at the Bending table stood up for an announcement at large.  
“Now, I think we all know why we’re here. We’re here to party until Hotshot shits himself, and then to-“  
“Already done,” Koko called.  
“-Ok, that’s a record. But we’re also here to keep partying, not just today, but every year on this day. Today will forever be known as…“  
The earthbender thought, then motioned for someone to help him.  
“Peace Day?” Søren tried.  
“V Day?”  
Koko had to prove she was young. She dropped into a horse stance, her arms rigid in an earthbender kata, and bellowed, “EXECUTION DAY!”  
“Hell yeah! Execution day!”  
Everyone but Søren drank to that. Someone broke out a speed Pai Sho board and the necessary equipment for a more painful, intoxicated variant.  
There was a general ruckus and a lot of fun happening all at once. This was usually the time Koko and Søren would leave and be young somewhere private. Koko kept checking his face for the inviting look. Between glances, she wondered what was happening to her life. There was a time when cradle to grave was written in stone, but the modern world was globalized. She never even imagined a reason to leave home. And she didn’t regret it. She just didn’t have a mission for her life anymore. She didn’t even have kids yet, and the clock was ticking. This thing with Søren… She saw too much of herself in too many of his looks. He was lonely.  
She tried looking young again, and seized on the topic of Kuvira’s death. She held out her hands for attention, swayed, and projected her voice.  
“The Great Uniter,  
A Haiku, not completed,  
The Avatar Won.”  
Then she leaned on her faith and fell, eyes closed. When she opened them, she was in Søren’s arms. She smiled to him.  
“You talk a lot of shit,” he noted.  
“She had it coming. Haven’t hated someone that much since Chin the Conqueror.”  
“You guys are making her out to be Vaatu. She’s a person, you know.”  
Koko was waiting for his eyes to turn serious and gaze into her with longing. It wasn’t happening yet. He gently returned her to a chair, and fired a loaded look to silence a coy grin on another of the crew.  
“Uh oh,” someone cat called, “Søren’s got another lady.”  
“Hot for Kuvira, huh?  
“I’d fuck her.”  
Koko saw the comments piercing her friend’s usual calm. Her act at being drunk faltered under concern. She thought, maybe she’d been too young for a moment.   
“I think it’s enough to be glad a war’s over,” was Søren’s only defense, “But I’m not going to celebrate someone’s death.”  
His posture said he was going to leave. Koko wasn’t sure if she was invited to follow. She placed a hand over his.  
“Hey. I got a little carried away,” she murmured.  
“No, you didn’t,” the earthbender called from his table. He scooted a Pai Sho piece forward, then bloody-knuckled the opponent he’d just defeated. There was a whoop, and shots were taken. Then he approached the non-bending table with his input.   
“You see, Søren here worked for Kuvira. He’s just soft on her because he did everything she did.”  
Koko hadn’t known that. She turned an unspoken question to Søren, who clearly hadn’t wanted anyone to know that. She did not retract her hand from his, though. Søren did.  
“You were one of the soldiers who purged Ba Sing Sei,” the earthbender continued.  
“Yeah. I did.”  
Søren didn’t try to justify the comment. He fired looks to every silent face in the room, asking, “Happy now?”  
He didn’t expect someone to come to his side. He didn’t realize that Koko was already there.  
“You had a good reason, though.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Tell us about it. I mean, now’s a good time. She’s the lady of the hour.”  
So he did.

“I… I guess it started in Republic City, actually. I had a daughter.”  
A lot of eyes turned to Koko, who was also receiving this as news.  
“She was the light of my life, after her mother left. She, uh, fell in with the Equalists. I wanted her to be able to defend herself, so I taught her Chi Blocking. When I refused to train Amon’s soldiers, he offered her the job. She had a whole school set up. It was pretty well organized.”  
He laughed, remembering the moment, then wiped it clear of his conscience.  
“I was proud of her. I got involved. I thought… After her mother left… I wanted us to be closer. Then the raids started. When the Avatar got involved with that task force. I tried to get her to safety, but, she was captured. I visited the police a lot, but there were curfews, and they weren’t talking to non-benders, especially after Beifong left. The first answer I got was after she returned. Amon got unmasked, the whole thing blew over, but all the prisoners were gone. No paper trail. No bodies. She disappeared. A lot of people did.”  
He struggled through the details, then wondered what to share.  
“I did what I had to, and I got a clue. One of the people who’d disappeared showed up in Ba Sing Sei, about a year later. This guy said the cops handed him off to Dai Li agents, who then brought him to the Earth Kingdom. He was conscripted into some kind of underground army. He was a firebender. Anyway, the Dai Li knew he was missing. That was all I got out of him before they attacked us. I ran.”  
Søren had the whole room’s attention now. Somewhere along the story, someone had discretely switched off the radio and unhinged the record player.  
“The second hint was about a month later, in the city proper. I met a girl who escaped from slavers. That was still a thing before Kuvira. There was a whole network, black market. She told me about her processing after she was handed to the Dai Li. They lined everyone up and asked them questions. ‘Are you a bender? No. Stand over here. Are you a boy? No. Stand over there.’ So… So I knew, if she was taken to the Earth Kingdom… I knew where I had to look for her. I found a high traffic compound, got chummy with the customers, asked them about the girls. I spent months stringing it all together until I knew who was who. Had this whole place figured out. But I was one man, and the security there… I couldn’t tell where the PMCs ended and the State Military began. There wasn’t a chance I could get inside, let alone get someone out.”  
He was quiet. He wasn’t sorting through details anymore, but emotions. Everyone in the room knew what came next. Koko placed a hand on his shoulder, and moved in for a hug.  
“When the Queen died,” he blurted.  
“Oh Spirits, it was awful. You can’t imagine. There wasn’t a society anymore. Everyone, everyone was out in the streets killing. Soldiers were fighting each other for stolen royal treasures. There weren’t units or gangs anymore. I mean, you could tell there was unrest before, but it was like every person on Earth wanted it all to themselves and couldn’t stand that somewhere, someone else was breathing. The only organizations left standing were, well, the ones I needed to get into. But they were weakened. That was my chance. I was gearing up on a balcony. I wrapped black linen over myself. Swords and shit. I was all ready to go commando. Then I feel this hand on my shoulder. Just like Koko’s standing here.”  
He looked into her eyes.  
“It was Kuvira. She already know who I was. She just said to me: ‘You’re Søren.’ And I said, ‘who are you?’ And she says: ‘I’m going to raid this compound and kill everyone inside.’ And I told her about my daughter. I told her about my plan and how I had the whole place mapped out and I knew where the girls were and where the boss was and how to get people in and out alive. And you know what she does? She puts me in charge of all these metal benders that were in the shadows around me the whole time.”  
He thought, tried to remember why he was telling the story. Then he nodded.  
“Yeah. Yeah, I helped Kuvira purge Ba Sing Sei. I killed A Lot of people. But before I started, all bonds between men were broken. And a month later, people were working together again. There weren’t any slaves. The taxes were reasonable. There weren’t these huge class differences where you’ve got kids starving right next to a mansion. We were unified. I know it was pretty bad- all the things she did. But… Without her… I don’t think it would have been better. I just don’t think we should celebrate another death.”  
There was no challenge to that wish. Someone offered a forced cheer.  
“To Unification Day, then.”  
Koko completed her hug, and whispered to him, “I’m sorry about your daughter, Søren.”  
“I’ve moved on,” he murmured.  
Then they left and fucked.


	6. Chapter 6

Korra had earned Lin’s respect somewhere along her world-saving. She imagined that Lin was acknowledging her political clout, as any city leader would have to do. But in Lin’s mind, it was much simpler. In every person, she saw either her young sister or her young self. Korra had transitioned from first to second, and then created a third category. Korra had policed the world and kicked ass at her own discretion. No one was above her law. Lin was now a rapacious consumer of stories about the Avatar, and was living those moments vicariously. Her embarrassment about this guilty pleasure kept her intensely quiet as she walked Korra to Kuvira’s cell.  
Korra respected the silence. They reached the stairs to Kuvira’s visitation room, and Lin caught herself sighing on the first step. Korra had seen it as well, and glanced up the flights, then to Lin’s wrist-rappeler.  
“Sometimes I get impatient, too. You know, airbending.”  
She smiled to Lin, who could not hide hers. The older chief brushed a silver lock of hair, as if correcting it. Her hair hadn’t been out of place, and she didn’t move it. Korra had seen Asami do that before. She knew it was nervousness. She didn’t know the rest.  
“Hey, sorry we got off to a bad start, Lin,” she smiled.  
“You don’t have to apologize for that.”  
“Still, I was rude.”  
“We’re even, then,” Lin grunted.  
They topped the stairs and reached Kuvira’s visiting cell. Korra poked the wall material.  
“Plastic,” Lin answered.   
“Varrick’s idea, but I refused to buy from him. Your girlfriend made it for us. What?”  
Lin caught the heavy blush on the avatar. Korra tried to cover her face, too late.  
“Oh, come on. Does everyone know?”  
“You were kind of loud,” Lin nodded, “we could hear you through the spirit portal.”  
Korra turned full scarlet, her mouth agape.  
“What?! Really?”  
“I knew it,” Lin laughed.  
“Wait, no, that’s not possible! You made that up!”  
Lin only laughed in answer, and unlocked Kuvira’s cell. She swung the door open for Korra and parted with, “Twenty minutes, Avatar,” then a wink.  
She slammed the door boor before Korra could respond. So she turned to face the former empress of the Earth Kingdom. Her smile faded. She remembered why she was here. Then she took the seat available for her. Kuvira did not speak. The Earth Kingdom’s great leaders were all fond of wait-and-see tactics. Korra was playing with fire before she knew the word for it.  
“How are you?” she started.  
“Pretty relaxed. But it’s hard to comprehend my own death. Just show up to the execution and you’ll see what you’re looking for.”  
“I’m not here for that, Kuvira. I told you we have a lot in common. I…”  
Kuvira did not fill the silence.  
“Look, I think everyone’s making a mistake. There’s no reason for you to die.”  
“I won’t beg for mercy, Avatar.”  
“You don’t have to be a martyr, either. I’m going to plead your case.”  
“Baatar tried that. They locked him up, too.”  
“But he was part of your inner circle. I’m an outsider. I’m the Avatar! They have to listen to me!”  
She had never seen sympathy on the Great Uniter’s face. She didn’t realize it was just a character. She was speaking to Kuvira now, and the woman nodded a feeling of unity to her.  
“They have power, Korra. They don’t even have to listen to their own consciences. Thank you for coming to see me. I appreciate it. I know you don’t like death. I know you want what’s best for us all. And you have the power to make us better. But I didn’t. You could break me out of this prison, but it is beyond even you to break me into society. None of these people will cry for me, when I’m dead. Just forget I’m here and live a happy life, Korra.”  
Kuvira’s eyes lowered. She did not dismiss the Avatar, because she was lonely, Korra realized.  
“That isn’t a reason to give up, Kuvira! I know you hate yourself and, and maybe before this cell you thought you were doing the right thing, and now you feel like everything you’ve done is wrong. It’s like, you look back and you’re so mad at yourself, you wish it was someone else. You look at their mistakes and you want to yell, ‘You’re weak! You can’t be me, because I’m better than that!’ But… But you’re not. And you’ve got these two people inside you. There’s a big one that’s slow and lazy and incapable and does the wrong thing, and then there’s this little mad voice that isn’t helpful. And I know, I know you feel alone.”  
“I am alone.”  
“Hey. I’m here. I care about you. I came as soon as I heard the news.”  
“You wouldn’t mind if I rotted in this cell, though.”  
“I would. I’m going to get you out.”  
That caught Kuvira’s attention.  
“What?”  
“I’m going to talk to everyone I can, and we are getting you released, Kuvira.”  
“Oh. Well, I appreciate that, Avatar.”   
“You can call me Korra. We aren’t enemies right now.”  
“You aren’t wearing chains.”  
“Well you aren’t wearing a uniform,” Korra pointed.  
She hadn’t meant it to hurt. She saw that it did. Kuvira lowered her eyes again. She was controlling an emotion, or wrestling with many. When she was ready again, Kuvira raised her head and forced a kind smile.  
“I’m sorry. I’m really glad to have company. I just don’t want to talk about my prison or my death. I don’t want to talk about the Empire.”  
The smile came easier when that weight left her expression. Kuvira was not wearing the pretenses of the Great Uniter anymore. She had returned to an older outfit, and realized that all of her conditioning had made it fit only loosely.  
“That’s basically the last three years of my life,” Kuvira admitted.  
“I wouldn’t want to talk about that, either,” Korra sympathized, “but you did some great stuff there at the beginning, right? What about Ba Sing Sei?”  
Korra knew she’d picked a good topic. Kuvira smiled and nodded with satisfaction.  
“Now there’s a story,” she started.  
Korra relaxed to listen. Her head balanced on an arm as she slumped over the table. Kuvira’s excitement kindled a warm smile on her own features. Then she heard the first words, and was hooked.  
“We met Amon.”  
“What?! Amon was in Ba Sing Sei? Where is he now?”  
“I don’t know. We parted ways at Zaofu. But he was really helpful building a new society. When we landed in the city proper, the whole government was gone. All the markets were ruined. There was no economy. There were no businesses open. Nobody was buying, selling or trading. There was just infrastructure and violence. And slave traders. They still had customers, so they were a foundation for order. It was tempting to work with them. But I’d already promised my men we were going to do this right. I told them the only difference between us and the people were saving was attitude. I still believe that.  
“We set up a raid, and got to the compound as the sun fell. We brought the airship down a few streets away and rappelled the rooftops until it was in sight. One of my men pointed to Amon. We were using hand signals, but he switched to slang.”  
She illustrated the difference between DANGER-LOOK-THERE and ARE-YOU-FUCKING-SEEING-THIS.  
“He had the mask and everything. He set up a bow and fired a zip-line down onto the compound’s roof. I don’t know why, but I just sensed a kindred spirit. So I approached him, and we teamed up. He said he knew the whole compound and how to rescue the girls. I trusted him. He went in first, alone, and my men set up at all the entry points. We waited for his signal. Our goal was to kill the kingpin, and he was looking to rescue the girls. It all just came together. But this guy…”  
Kuvira shook her head, laughing.  
“So Amon drops into the… Throne room, I guess. The kingpin was holding court with one of his captains. I even lost track of Amon. He just vanished in the shadows. But the next thing anybody knows, he’s standing in the center of the room and he’s talking. You remember his voice. Just hollow and steady. It’s the mask, by the way. He let me try it later. So he appears and starts walking towards the throne, and he’s talking in that voice. Then he-”  
“-What did he say?”  
“I don’t remember. It was ‘something, something, equality, justice.’ You know. But the best part is when he finished. The kingpin leans forward, and he says, ‘Do you know who I am? A single man ain’t gonna stop me.’ And Amon says, ‘Well, you’re not wrong.’  
“It was just like they said in the newspapers. Amon could move. It was beautiful. He leaped at the closest earthbender and chi-blocked him. Then he used him as a shield against the other one, and he throws this grenade that has a one second fuse at most. He never called us in. He did it all by himself. Killed about ten people. It was beautiful.”  
“That sounds really scary, actually.”  
“Yeah,” Kuvira nodded. Her eyes flared. Her smile was glowing.  
“His katas were gorgeous, though. I’d never seen anything like it. One second, he’s moving like a firebender- the next, he’s a flame, then a flow, then a rock. And the way people just toppled when he touched them. This guy could paralyze people. Anyway, it was nice to see someone so competent. I tried to bring him into my circle, but he was… Well, he was busy with his own mission. I, um… No, that isn’t true. I believed in his mission. I let him go. But I made him teach me before he left.”  
“I noticed,” Korra shivered.  
Kuvira nodded her apology, “Sorry about that.”  
“No you aren’t,” Korra hummed.  
“I knew what I was doing. I took advantage of you, Korra, and I wasn’t proud of it. I’m still ashamed, actually. Zaofu was… I wish it wasn’t me. When I was younger, after I met Suyin, there was, actually, a whole year I studied to be a Kyoshi warrior.”  
The girls shared an amused eye contact. Korra couldn’t imagine it.  
“You didn’t.”  
“I did.”  
“What happened?”  
“Well… The underwear,” Kuvira blushed.  
Korra laughed.  
“I mean, I get it if everybody else is doing it,” Kuvira wavered, “But… No.”  
They left that moment in silence, both smiling. The sound of footsteps drew their ears to the door. Someone was running, hard.  
“Chief!”  
The cry was muted through the wall. They heard Lin’s grumpy voice, but not her words.  
“Chief, you said to keep an eye on Varrick’s ship. They’ve just docked.”  
She grunted something that said she didn’t care.  
“Chief, there’s a party on board.”  
“Spirits protect us.”  
Lin pounded on the door.  
“Avatar! You’re needed!”  
Korra jumped from the table. Remembering herself, she nodded over her shoulder to a hopeful Kuvira.  
“I’m coming back for you.”


	7. Chapter 7

Mako entered Lin’s office just as the sun touched the horizon. Out her office window was a street consumed by disorder, and consummated by merriment. The radio on her desk had a tiny Shiro Shinobi inside, sharing his excitement.  
“Ladies and gentlemen, Republic City is Na Sing Sei tonight! Our correspondents report that the dock party police responded to three hours ago has consumed the entire republic. And as I speak, I have just been handed a report from Omashu that the party has spread via high speed rail to the city’s capitol. In fact, there are now naked women dancing in the room with me. One of them is trying to grind on me and asking for an autograph-”  
Mako had stopped in the police chief’s doorway. Chief Lin Beifong wasn’t wearing a shirt. Her bra looked conspicuously like an extension of her uniform pants and boots, which were atop her table. She had a wine bottle at high salute to the picture of president Raiko above her doorway.  
Behind Mako was an empty office. He supposed that he had the explanation for that now. This would not be the first party he’d been oblivious to. He glanced out the window, to the crowded streets below, then back at Lin, who was the wrong kind of drunk for the occasion.  
“Funny how that happens,” she grunted.  
Mako supposed he was welcome to enter, and closed the door behind him.  
“What?”  
“Take a look-” she gestured out the window- “See how they all group together? There are the waterbenders. There are the earthbenders. There are the firebenders. If it’s anything like a typical riot, they’ll stay grouped like that.”  
“People like people who are like them,” Mako reasoned.  
He kept his eyes out the window. But as the sun adjusted lower, he realized that Lin was watching him in their reflections on the glass.  
“’People like people who are like them,’” she mused, “And here we are.”  
She saluted with her bottle again, and chugged hard.  
“You called me in here, Chief.”  
She came down to gargle, “Were you busy?”  
“No.”  
“There you go,” she pointed.  
Mako nodded, “I’d like the Kuvira case, though. You haven’t assigned anyone to it yet. Pretty unusual for something high-profile.”  
Lin nodded her agreement, then set the bottle down on her desk.  
“I want her to escape,” she grumbled.  
Her undershirt and uniform were draped on her chair. She put the shirt on her face and stretched her back over the chair. Mako had seen that particular cat stretch too many times to mistake it. Lin had pushed her bra and breasts high, advertising a stomach without wrinkles. She had a better body than girls half her age. She had a reason to show off. Not really a right, though. Mako looked away and wondered how to escape. He thought about what she’d just said.  
“You… You want Kuvira to escape? What? Why?”  
“She either escapes from us, the White Lotus, or the Dai Li. But if she escapes from us, we get first dibs on killing her.”  
“Oh,” he wondered.  
“What?”  
“Well, I thought… Being Chief and all...” he suggested.  
Lin threw her shirt at him.  
“Don’t you Chief me. I have to retire before people start figuring out I’m old. At this point, it’s just time for another notch on the belt.”  
“Uh… Look. Chief, I-”  
Lin scowled him down.  
“Lin,” he corrected himself, “I want the Kuvira case.”  
Lin shook her head, and planted her arms on the desk. The jostle of the bottle and her breasts briefly reminded Mako that he was standing in a room with his drunk, half-naked boss.  
“Too bad, Mako. No one’s getting it.”  
Mako considered crossing his arms and legs. This would protect him from further advances, but it would also be a sign of weakness. He needed the case, and Lin Beifong could only be persuaded by a strong argument. He planted his arms on the table and leaned into her personal space. She spoke first.  
“Whatever Su’s put you up to, make it fresh.”  
“It’s got nothing to do with your sister,” Mako hissed, “I’m doing this for Bolin.”  
“And who do you think put him up to that? Suyin cried to Opal. Opal cried to your brother. He cried to you. And now you’re crying to me.”  
“Alright, yeah. Bolin talked me up,” Mako nodded, “but I still want the Kuvira case.”  
Lin blew bad air through floppy lips and waved Mako away. She stood from the table and dropped the drapes on one of her windows. The sun was almost gone anyways.  
“I don’t want to talk about Kuvira. Come on, Mako. It’s a celebration. Neither of us are invited to a party. Let’s make our own.”  
Mako often enjoyed being right. He’d broken cases by making connections that were almost holistic. This connection, he wished was wrong. No, it was wrong.  
“Why’d you call me in here, Chief?”  
“I’m lonely.”  
“Really, though,” he hoped.  
Lin nodded, also hopeful.  
“I’m serious. I’m lonely.”  
“Those might be related,” he quipped.  
It was a nervous joke. He became more nervous when she gestured to the alcohol.  
“That’s why I’m drinking.”  
Mako looked at the door. Curling up under his desk was an option. He could go for a long walk and end up at Asami or Korra’s, then maybe crash in a guest room and very sadly jack himself to their sounds of happiness. He could go back to his apartment and have an insane woman ride him while she demanded to be called the avatar. These options did not appeal to him. He wanted to spend all night on the Kuvira case.  
“Well…” he decided, “If I don’t have that case, I’m not busy.”  
He took the seat across from Lin, and accepted the alcohol as she pushed it his way.  
“Gotta take what you can get,” she mumbled.  
It was a sad tone. Mako sipped the wine, then realized with a startled turn to the label that he was drinking something expensive. Chief Lin was in a particularly bad mood, and hiding it with hedonism.  
“Something eating you, Chief?”  
“You offering?”  
“Ha, ha,” implying, “but seriously.”  
“It’s a lonely world, Mako.”  
She turned back from the window. The sun had just set behind her. On a closer examination, Mako could see that she had lines where a younger person wouldn’t. There weren’t many, and they weren’t deal breakers. It was in his head, just like the obstacles he’d overcome to bend lightning. This task, he promised himself, would be less arduous.  
He shook his head free of the thought. He wasn’t doing anything with Lin. Maybe he’d been unattached too long, but he wasn’t losing focus or getting desperate. Things had happened in his life, he told himself. Thinking back, he remembered exciting cases, and nothing more. It was all work. Asami and Korra had hugged him and called him friend. Otherwise, he’d been devoid of relationships.  
He thought of Bolin and Opal, how they’d cultivated something great through adversity. He remembered losing Korra’s interest in the best of times. Somewhere in his training as a firebender, he’d learned you can’t un-burn things. He’d also learned to dual wield, and somehow ruined two dream relationships at once. At least Korra and Asami had each other.  
He ran through all the female connections he had in his mind, realizing suddenly that in his entire circle of friends, he alone was alone- He and Lin. He finally looked up her body, and did not shy away from accepting his fate. Lin saw that she was being examined, and sighed, knowing what the result would be.  
“Look, I know I’m a step down from The Avatar, and I could be Asami’s mother, but that’s your fuckup.”  
“Chief, I-“  
“Don’t. Chief. Me.”  
Mako had all the wrong cats chasing him. He wondered how Bolin became happy, remembered the Earth Empire, and briefly considered what the Fire nation must have been like for a hundred years.  
“Lin, we’re coworkers,” he tried.  
“I’m retiring.”  
“But… It would be awkward,” he tried again.  
“I’m gonna find a beautiful cliff to throw myself down, Mako. It won’t be awkward for long.”  
The admission there, of suicide, reminded him of seeing Korra standing on the cliff face. He’d almost tackled her. It had felt like his world was going to pieces. For Lin, his heart beat double-time and he pointed aggressively from his chair.  
“Chief! You- Lin, don’t do that. There’s nothing wrong with growing old.”  
“I don’t have a family to take care of me, Mako. And I’m not going to curl up with Suyin and beg back into her circle. And I’m sure as hell not spending the rest of my days living in a swamp. There’s nothing for me after the force.”   
She planted a hand on either of his shoulders.  
“But I’d like to add some notches to my belt,” she finished.  
Mako didn’t have an answer for that. He could leave, but then what? He’d step out the door and curl up on the cot under his desk, and Lin would curl up under hers. He had an apartment, but the girl stalking him there was worse company. The only good girls he’d met had run him over or came his way via Bolin. It wasn’t like the old days. Lin was still in front of him, very timidly licking her lips.  
“Damn it, Mako, take it or leave it! But don’t leave me hanging here.”  
“I’m seeing someone right now,” technically.  
“Like that ever stopped you,” she dismissed.  
It hadn’t when he’d needed it to. And he didn’t really care for the girl getting Haiku’s under his pillow every night. He never gave her a key, so that was still a mystery.  
“Look, Mako, it’s a party. Look outside. No rules tonight. See those people? Right there. They are fucking on my street. That’s illegal. But I don’t care. You heard the radio, right? It’s Na Sing Sei night. You know, like Ba Sing Sei, with all the chaos, but Na, not Ba, because-”  
“Lin.”  
He cut her nervous rambling short. His mind had settled, though not his gut. He’d entered this room seeking the Kuvira case, and he was leaving with it.   
“Alright, Lin, look. You’re my boss. I work for you. This is a professional relationship and doing stuff like this is unprofessional.”  
Lin had torn down the walls between them, exposing her tender sides. She’d expected to get hurt. That was the role of the alcohol. She pushed off of Mako’s shoulders and knocked the bottle over. She tossed a gesture to the door.   
“Just get out. I knew this was a mistake.”  
“No. I’ll do it, I just want you to know I’m probably gonna regret it.”  
Mako returned the bottle upright and chugged what was left. Lin, in the silence, contemplated his input.  
“So am I,” she decided.  
Mako came down to breathe, then tossed the bottle through the window. Lin pointed through the hole, her face contorting in authority.  
“We’ll blame it on Korra,” he explained.  
He held up a hand to stop the Chief’s next objection.  
“I want the Kuvira case,” he bargained.  
“You whore!”  
Her arms crossed. Her vision diverted. In anyone else, he’d know it was a sign of disgust- that he’d bargained too hard. Lin was an earthbender- a metalbender. Looking away meant she couldn’t face this head on. She wasn’t certain about her answer.  
“Lin. Chief!”  
She broke, then nodded and undid her belt buckle.  
“Fine! You’re on it. Any other conditions?”  
Mako breathed, tried to drink the alcohol on his breath. The one night he wanted to blackout…  
“Yeah,” he answered.  
Mako leaned his chair back and switched off the lights.


	8. Chapter 8

Shiro Shinobi had the honor of waking Republic City. Koko yawned as her first sentient act. Waking up felt like climbing from the same well she’d drank out of. A draft hugged her tight, and she retracted from it into the nearest warm body. Then her eyes opened to see how much of a mistake last night had been. Søren and his serious morning face. She was happy with that. She lilted her head against his arm and kept her body closer to his. The voice in the room belonged to the radio.  
“… Still being extinguished in the Fire Nation Capitol. The air nomads have generously volunteered a heroic number of hours towards street sweeping, and the city’s police have resumed services at full strength as of this hour. We are joined now by a correspondent at the south pole who is the final participant in this historic celebration…”  
Koko’s eyes were too uncomfortable to keep open, but she held in her mind the image of Søren’s stern morning face. He hadn’t moved on from the loss of his daughter and ex. He spent too many hours of his lone time staring at nothing and thinking about everything. Koko tried to fill those hours with her presence. She cuddled against him and adjusted her weight on the bench. She’d woken leaning against him. Søren was staring at a wall of wanted posters, typical to a police station bulletin board.  
She’d never seen him studying targets before. Koko chanced a peek at the wall. She was in a police station. They weren’t alone on the bench. She was naked under her blanket. She tried pulling the flaps on it closed, but learned that she was handcuffed. This sobered her enough to catch Søren’s eyes.  
He had a crooked mouth for every guilty pleasure, and warmed her with it now.  
“Oh no,” Koko groaned.  
“It was a great party, though,” Søren nodded.  
Koko bonked her forehead against him and wondered what her mother would think. She already knew. The village had made her promise to temper her conduct for the sake of Kyoshi island- for the sake of Kyoshi. Her only comfort was that she hadn’t been in uniform. Then she saw the makeup on Søren’s arm. She rubbed her face on him and saw more smear.  
“Please tell me I’m not in visage,” she whispered.  
Søren’s eyes danced around the hallway- across similarly hung-over, exhausted revelers. He saw enough privacy to lean close and whisper, “you aren’t the only one.”  
He gestured down the hall with an upward nod, where two women dressed as Avatar Korra and Asami Sato strolled in together.  
“Oh no,” Koko whispered.  
“What? Costumes are popular.”  
Søren nodded across the walkway, to a handcuffed sky bison suit. The man in the bison suit nodded back, and Koko realized that she and Søren were Kyoshi and Amon. She directed her lover’s attention back down the hallway, to Korra and Asami.   
“Those aren’t costumes,” she hissed.  
The Avatar was striding their way. Koko hid her face in shame. She assumed that Søren hid his for the same reason. She caught only pieces of the conversation as the two most powerful women in the world passed her.  
“Look, Korra, I’m a big girl. I’m going to wander off sometimes, and I don’t always have time to tell you where I am.”  
“No, I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… Look, I thought a lot of things. You scared me there. Let’s just focus on this business with Kuvira. Someone tried to break her out last night, and Mako needs the evidence we just found. ”  
Koko forgot her shame in the surprise. Her head jerked up with alarm, and she met eyes with the avatar. Korra did not look at her for long. She sneered at smeared makeup and briefly had a look that said, “You’re so low,” before forgetting that Koko existed and carrying on with her life. Koko felt low. She released her grip on Søren and sat as if by herself. She didn’t need to share the bad mood she was in. A part of her blamed him.  
Søren was oblivious to this change in mood. He was still watching the avatar, still gathering Shiro’s voice from the radio. He’d moderated drinking last night, but he hadn’t slept. When Korra and Asami passed through the hallway, he turned to another man up the hallway. He had the costume of a chi blocker, but, as Koko put it, it wasn’t a costume. The posture gave it away. Søren returned to his own business when the subject returned the attention and verdict. He had the low-browed look of a secret society recognizing one of its own. Neither man spoke over the radio.  
“… That was a stirring round of comedy. I didn’t realize the Southern Water Tribe was fond of the spoken word. And speaking of speeches, I have with me in the broadcast center one of Republic City’s own public performers. His claims to fame are too long for this segment, but I’ve introduced him before. Welcome back to Republic City, Bolin!”  
“Glad to be back, everybody. You know, I’ve got a girl now who’s part of the Air Nomad Nation, and boy is it hard to pack on the move. Especially when you’re the only one who can’t fly.”  
“Well, I hope we can keep you from the lady for a moment longer. We’ve brought you on today to ask about another girl.”  
“Look, you can tell Ginger that what happened on screen stays on screen.”  
“A jokester at heart, that’s Bolin for you everybody. But seriously, Bolin, we’ve turned to you before for comments on the Avatar, on Asami Sato, and it seems you are also connected to a third woman who has shaped our world. What insights can you share about Kuvira? How do you feel about her sentencing? What made you put on the uniform every day?”  
There was a silence too long for radio. Bolin struggled with his answer, and sound left his mouth before words did.  
“Yeeeeaaauhhhherrrrrwwwwwweeeelll, I guess I was… I was really stupid.”  
“Oh.”  
“Yeah. Yeah, I put on the uniform because I was dumb. I was Kuvira’s useful idiot. I turned my back on Opal-“  
“-That’s your girl?”  
“Yeah. But I also turned my back on Nuktuk’s Fans. And I guess now’s a good time to apologize for that. I’m sorry. I let you all down. The things I did under Kuvira were good. I… I like to remember these two villages on a river. They didn’t have a bridge, so Kuvira put me in charge of a bunch of engineers and we put it together. It was great. And when we were done, she had us bring out some metal, and she sculpted this big statue in the river.”  
“A statue of herself?”  
“No. Some kid. I dunno. You can see it all this summer in I, Kuvira, the latest mover I’m in. But you asked about the uniform. I don’t know. I liked my work. When I heard about the reeducation camps, I just- well, I turned a blind eye. I didn’t want it to be true.”  
“But it was?”  
“It was. When Varrick and I escaped from Kuvira-”  
“Wait. Varrick? Do you mean-“  
“Varrick Industries, yeah. Kuvira was holding us prisoner to make a superweapon. So we escaped by blowing up a train. Then we met these people who escaped from a concentration camp, and we all teamed up, but they didn’t trust us because of the uniforms. Then there was this border checkpoint with mech suits everywhere. We fought our way through and gained the trust of the other fugitives by saving them.”  
“Sounds like quite the adventure.”  
“Oh. Yeah, well, you know, nothing ol’ Nuktuk couldn’t handle.”  
“Right. Do you know why Kuvira made the reeducation camps? Was that always part of her plan, or did something go wrong?”  
“You know, I try not to think about it too much. Focus on the future and all that. But yeah, I guess that’s a good question. I mean, you really ought to ask someone who worked in one.”  
“Well, no one would admit to that.”  
“Ehhh, yeah, I guess so. But I met a girl who’d been in one.”  
Koko felt the weight on the bench shift when Søren’s head snapped up to attention. He hadn’t moved on at all. Bolin continued, and everyone listened.  
“So those people we met after we escaped from the train: They all came from a reeducation camp. They were all fire and water benders. There was this one girl who’d been in the camps for four years.”  
“That’s…”  
“That’s longer than Kuvira’s campaign. She got arrested by the Dai Li before the Earth Queen was killed, and after Ba Sing Sei fell, she survived in the prison for a full month before the guards started feeding people again. Then she got transferred from there to another camp, and didn’t escape until about a week before I met her. But you know what? She didn’t let it stop her. That girl was like a… I don’t know, like a smaller Korra with all the same determination. Hey, shout out to the Avatar, by the way! She’s out working on important city business right now!”  
“Do you know this girl’s name?”  
“Yeah, Korra. She’s about this tall, with-”  
“The girl who escaped from prison.”  
“Oh, yeah. Shout out to Hikari! You’ll find your dad sooner or later! You go, girl!”  
Koko had never seen Søren turn so dark so suddenly. He was perfectly still, save his irises, which contracted, and the hairs of his body, which all extended and sharpened. She had been waiting for him to notice her, to return the comfort she was always extending to him. She was doing her damnedest to build a relationship here, and she needed to see that it was working. She’d followed along with Bolin’s story, and understood that maybe Søren had just heard his daughter’s name. But if he was happy and excited, he wasn’t sharing it with her.  
His head turned away, up the hall, to a man dressed as a Chi Blocker. Their eyes locked, and Koko sensed in them a seriousness that did not belong in a costume. She saw Søren’s arm tensing, realized he was sending hand signals she couldn’t see.  
She heard Avatar Korra coming back up the hall with her industrialist friend in tow.  
“Ok, so Equalists definitely attacked the prisons last night,” Asami started.  
“But they didn’t break anybody out,” Korra wondered aloud.  
“Maybe they broke somebody in?”  
“Wouldn’t Lin notice?”  
“Maybe not. Nobody’s seen her since yesterday. You don’t think…?”  
“I think we should ask the Equalists. But what would they want with Kuvira? Oh,” she realized.  
“Korra?”  
“No, never mind. Kuvira said Amon is still alive. They worked together in Ba Sing Sei. But I doubt he’d try to break her out. I mean… You know.”  
Koko noted Søren’s costume, and remembered that he had, in fact, worked with Kuvira in Ba Sing Sei. She glared at him, bewildered.  
“Are you-?” she whispered.  
“Shh! No. Don’t be ridiculous.”  
“This is getting weird,” Asami announced, “and I think it’s going to get weirder.”  
The rest of their conversation was out of earshot. Koko elbowed her lover. He slapped her wrist in reprisal, revealing that he had slipped his cuffs. The Chi Blocker up the hall had as well, and set to work paralyzing guards. Søren knelt at Koko’s cuffs and started working a lock pick.  
“Are you an Equalist?” she breathed.  
“It’s complicated,” he mumbled through the picks in his mouth.  
Koko jerked her restraints away from the lock pick.  
“I’m serious, Søren!” she yelled.  
It was about then that he returned to his senses for her. Koko had it within her power to get everyone in the hall… Double-arrested. The scrutiny would be unwelcome. Søren sighed, thinking fast and finding words as he spoke them.  
“My daughter might be alive. If she’s in this city, she’s returning to her old contacts. That’s the Equalists. And if being an Equalist gets me closer to my daughter, I’m in.”  
“Did you-“  
“I’m no enemy of the Avatar. I want to get my daughter, and get out of this mess. I’ll make some money working for Varrick, and then- if this is something we can get over- I’ve been thinking a lot about settling down with you.”  
He offered up his lock picks as if to say, “Are you coming with me?”  
Koko nodded.  
“I want to help you find your daughter. If you want me to trust you, I need to see what you’re doing.”  
The cuffs fell loose and they rose into a group of chi blockers. It was in this group of five men that Koko realized the breadth of the line she’d crossed. The men exchanged glances. Bandanas and masks fell into place. Their eyes leveled on the last two police guards at the door.


	9. Chapter 9

“Ok,” Varrick mumbled, “Exterior day, exterior night, exterior day, exterior day, Interior- here we go. Interior: Kuvira’s personal train.”  
He was standing in the parlor aboard Zhu Li, his mind and one hand occupied with a script. With a shake of his free hand, he straightened the cuff of his Earth Empire uniform, then pointed to Bolin.  
“Nuktuk,” he ordered.  
Bolin took the cue to start.  
“We just got some Good news. Two more Earth Kingdom States have agreed to join us.”  
Next on the script was Bataar Beifong. His brother Huan was filling in for that role, but only contributed a deadpan monotone to the rehearsal.  
“Excellent. Thank you, Bolin. We’re ninety percent there, Kuvira.”  
Huan lowered his script copy and flipped a green braid of hair from his eyes while Varrick continued.  
“That’s great! Zhu Li! Dish out some of that special celebration tea!”  
Zhu Li was in the study adjacent the parlor. She leaned back from a desk chair and glared through the open bulkhead in response to her name. But now all eyes were on the mover’s star.  
A buxom redhead with breasts larger than Kuvira’s head read in a lilting voice, “None for me. I won’t celebrate until the earth Kingdom is One hundred percent- Hmm… No, I can’t- the line just doesn’t fit her character, Varrick, I can’t do it.”   
Varrick threw down his script and powerwalked into the other room, seeking an outlet for his rage. He would be back in another moment. The ship was large, but not enough for Varrick’s mood swings.  
In the meantime, Ginger tried to pry sympathy from her costar.  
“I don’t understand why it upsets him, Bolin, I’m merely giving my opinion on how Kuvira would speak.”  
“She kind of… did say that, though,” Bolin grimaced.  
Varrick returned, shouting.  
“She used exactly those words, Ginger! Zhu Li was there! Sweetie, tell her, please!”  
“I’ve already told her,” Zhu Li reminded him from the next room.  
“Well she FORGOT!”  
“I didn’t forget, Varrick,” Ginger cooed, “I’m just pointing out that the line does not portray her.”  
“HOW CAN IT NOT?!”  
From Varrick, this was a demanding query, not a rhetorical statement. And Huan Beifong apparently felt like contributing some enthusiasm to the answer. He leaned forward from the mold of his loveseat and raised a hand.  
Varrick nodded for him to speak.  
“Go ahead, Huan. Let’s all have a powwow and tell the director how to make a mover.”  
“Ginger may be literally wrong,” Huan admitted.  
This caught Varrick’s ego, and thus his attention. His eyes darted down the indignant, upturned nose, and the nose followed.   
“Go on…”  
“But a literal presentation of Kuvira falls prey to her deceit. Kuvira was cunning. She wore a disguise. Kuvira, in her personal life, was very different from The Great Uniter. The Kuvira you’re making a mover about… Well, she is a character that Kuvira created. If you capture the Great Uniter, but not Kuvira, your audience will never see the incredible passion of her being.”   
Varrick considered this briefly, his eyes misting and darting over memories, then agreed with a nod.  
“Ok. I see what you mean. To be honest, she did kind of catch everybody off-guard with the whole ‘let’s conquer Zaofu’ thing.”  
He returned his gaze to Huan.  
“The script’s a rough draft, anyway. Say, while we’ve got you here, Huan, why don’t you give me your take on the girl?”  
Varrick plopped his body into a seat, then presented a flat palm to Ginger’s face when it appeared she might offer input. She sighed and sat back in her chair, while Huan leaned forward again. Kuvira’s passion evoked his, and he animated his words with gestures.  
“Kuvira suffered. Without toil and struggle, she was never at ease. Anyone who saw her dance could tell you that.”  
“She was a dancer?” Varrick wondered.  
“Oh yeah,” Bolin remembered.  
No one noticed the unimpressed frown that Zhu Li offered from the other room. Huan’s voice hollowed, and his eyes sharpened on an image gripped between his hands.  
“Morphogenesis was the name of the play. The protagonist is Ummi, a water tribe girl who has had her face stolen by the spirit Koh. On her journey through the spirit world, she learns who she once was, what she has lost, and that she can never recover it. The story is about her development as she comes to terms with her loss and creates a new identity for herself. In the end, she realizes that she cannot go on, and ends her existence.”  
“Morbid,” Varrick noted.  
“It’s a tragedy about irrecoverable loss, and it highlights the unsurmountable pain that Ummi must endure. But Kuvira’s performance was different. Ummi builds a cocoon for her soul. She creates a new identity, and returns to the human world triumphant.”  
“Makes sense. Adapt your story to your audience. The play was in Zaofu, right?”  
“Yes,” Huan monotoned. He could tell by Varrick’s cynical expression that the man hadn’t understood the significance.  
“So you liked her dancing,” Varrick summarized.  
“If you want to understand a man, you look him in the eye,” Huan tried.  
“Right,” Varrick understood.  
“But if you want to understand a man who is wearing a mask…”  
“You look at his work,” Varrick realized, “brilliant!”  
He made a gesture which, in context, meant, “Tell me about her dancing.”  
Huan nodded, grateful that his understanding of artistry wasn’t being sidelined.  
“Beauty is a function of pain. On that stage, Kuvira showed us that the whole of her mind was consumed by incurable pain, impenetrable loneliness, and an unquenchable fury that had carried her through both.”  
It was then that his artistry was sidelined. Varrick had propped his elbow on the arm of his chair, then his chin into his fingers. He seemed bored, and especially unsympathetic.  
“What pain? She grew up in Zaofu.”  
“Suyin adopted her into the family when she was eight. Before that… Well, when I first saw her, she was in a hospital bed with most of her body in a cast. Suyin never told us about Kuvira’s childhood. Maybe she doesn’t know.”  
“It seems there is too much we don’t know about her,” Ginger sighed.  
Varrick cast a disdainful look her at her contribution to the conversation.  
“Ginger, dear, would you please go recite your lines? We’re talking here.”  
He groaned when she continued.  
“I mean, take a look at this scene.”  
She read from the script: “‘Exterior: a small Earth Kingdom village, daytime. Kuvira and Bataar walk away from the village to a rock shrine by the river. Kuvira’s personal train is visible in the background. Nuktuk, in disguise, is following them at a distance. Kuvira stops at the shrine, clenches her fists, and cries in an upright position. Bataar comforts her. Kuvira says: ‘Bring me platinum. We’re putting a statue here.’”  
Ginger waved the script as if dispelling a foul odor.  
“What does this tell us about Kuvira? What does it mean? Nothing. We have a collection of moments that tell us nothing about her.”  
“Enough!”  
Varrick wasn’t even looking her in the eye anymore.  
“Look, these things happened! It’s a docu-mover! It’s about the things that happened!”  
He froze, realizing something, then whipped around to shout at his wife.  
“Zhu Li! Did I invent that word?”  
“Yes.”  
“Copyright it immediately!”  
This conversation disinterested Ginger, who turned to Bolin.  
“You saw this happen, Nuktuk? What does it tell you about Kuvira?”  
Bolin shrugged.  
“I don’t know. They didn’t know I was following them. It just… It happened, and the mover is about Kuvira. We can’t know everything about her. We’re just showing people more of the mystery.”  
Someone at the bulkhead caught his attention.  
“Oh. Hi, Mako!”  
Bolin’s older brother stepped through the door and straightened his suit uncomfortably. By his posture, the detective was clearly working. Varrick interrupted Mako’s greeting.  
“You here about the uniforms?”  
“What?”  
“I was making uniforms for the White Lotus. Someone stole them. Beifong said she’d get right on it.”  
“That was sarcasm, Sweetie,” Zhu Li called.  
Mako took that time to scribble in a notepad, then interjected, “Yeah, I’m here about the uniforms. We think it’s connected to another ongoing case.”  
“Oh, good,” Varrick softened.  
“Nice,” Zhu Li whispered.  
“Thanks. We’re pretty sure it’s part of a plot to rescue Kuvira. So…”  
He gestured to the room at large. Everyone was in an Earth Empire Uniform.  
“… So I thought I should ask the experts who the likely suspects are. Have you guys caught wind of any loyalist plots?”  
“Yeah, my White Lotus uniforms,” Varrick asserted.  
Bolin raised his hand.  
“Oh! You should talk to Korra and Asami, I mean if you guys still talk.”  
“Korra and Asami are already on the case.”  
Bolin and Varrick noted in unison: “Korra’s here?” and “Asami’s here?”  
Zhu Li leaned back and offered another glare.  
“No,” Mako mumbled, “but they’re investigating. Korra’s interrogating Kuvira. Asami thinks she can get Zaheer to talk to her.”  
“Who?”  
Ginger had the look of someone who thought they were important. Varrick hiked a thumb over his shoulder.  
“Ginger. Out.”  
She stood and left in a huffing flourish, impeded only when she bumped Mako on her way. He glanced into his pocket to confirm his suspicion- She had left a slip of paper on him- then examined her exiting strut to decide if he would call on her later.  
Yes.  
“So, uh, Why Zaheer?”  
Varrick brought him back into the room. Mako straightened his tie and remembered.  
“Because you’re missing four White Lotus uniforms. And the White Lotus is handling Kuvira’s transfer.”  
“So someone’s trying to repeat what Zaheer did,” Huan guessed.  
“Maybe. There’s still a lot of work to be done.”  
Mako rubbed his eyes, and for a moment, could not hide his fatigue.  
Zhu Li smiled and offered, “We did tell you to take a vacation.”  
Her nose wrinkled, and she added, “Stay in the office too long and you’ll start to smell like your boss.”


	10. Chapter 10

“So… I just talked to President Raiko,” Korra cringed.  
“You asked him to release me,” Kuvira guessed.  
She wore an orange jumpsuit and plastic handcuffs. The walls around them were Kuvira’s visiting cell.  
“Yeah, I asked him to release you,” Korra nodded.  
“And he said no,” Kuvira understood.  
“So then I asked him to give us more time before your- Your um… The…”  
“And he said no,” Kuvira finished.  
“Yeah.”  
“Thank you for trying, Avatar.”  
“You can call me Korra.”  
She tried offering that kindness with a smile, but it felt too forced. Kuvira returned one just as terse.  
“Thank you… Korra, for your concern. But mine is a lost cause. Spend time with your loved ones. ”  
She broke eye contact, and her expression faded. Korra sighed and rested her arms behind her head.  
“Asami is busy talking to Zaheer. Otherwise I would, believe me.”  
Her heart beat double-time at the admission. But she knew she’d have to be open about it eventually. It was just an accepted fact at this point. Korrasami was a word now. It hadn’t occurred to Korra that her conversational partner had been locked in a cell for a week. Kuvira squinted.  
“Wait… You… and Asami Sato?”  
She saw Korra blush, and broadened a rapacious grin.   
Korra stammered. “Uh… I- I mean, yeah. Is that… ?”  
She returned an unsure expression, wondering if she had encountered her first dissenter. Kuvira chuckled.  
“No, I’m not judging. Just…”  
“Well, what?”  
“I just hate it when Suyin is right about everything,” Kuvira sighed.  
To break the tension, she added, “Asami’s a good catch, Avatar.”  
Korra accepted that ending to the topic.  
“Uh… Thanks. You didn’t go wrong with Bataar, either.”  
The words had an unexpected effect. Kuvira’s eyes watered, then broke contact. Her lip quavered.  
“I kind of did.”  
“Oh. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-“  
Kuvira stopped the Avatar’s apology with a forceful shake of the head.  
“He… We were going to divorce, after my sentencing.”  
Korra struggled for words too long, and Kuvira was unable to admit more on the topic. They didn’t look at each other for a while. There was a brief moment when they tried to end the silence at the same time, then both yielded to the other. They shared a nervous laugh, and Kuvira proceeded.  
“So…” she managed, “Why is Asami talking to Zaheer?”  
“Oh. Um… Well… There’s a thing she’s… Looking into.”  
Korra scratched her neck, then crossed her arms.   
Kuvira noted the expressions and realized, “She’s investigating my inevitable escape attempt. I don’t see how Zaheer would be involved.”  
“Me neither, but Asami’s gotten a little paranoid, so she wants to interrogate him.”  
Korra shrugged.  
After a brief moment to consider, Kuvira wondered, “Wouldn’t he talk more to you?”  
“That’s what I said!”  
Korra flung her arms wide with the shout. Kuvira blushed and pursed her smile instead of answering.  
“What?” Korra pointed.  
“She’s protecting you,” Kuvira laughed, “Because she knows Zaheer hurt you. She wants to protect you from him, so she’s doing the talking. That kind of loyalty… Love is insubordinate.”  
She smiled fondly, thinking again of Bataar.  
“You really love him,” Korra noted.  
Kuvira almost nodded, but her head wavered to either side.  
“I feel like I’ve lost the right to say it,” she decided.  
Kuvira revealed her face, the tremble below her lip, her eyes darting over thoughts she couldn’t share yet. She had run out of words, and of pleasant thoughts to retreat into. Korra seized the moment to be a friend.  
“I’ve been through some rough stuff,” Korra offered, “and I’m here for you, right now, Kuvira. If you want to talk about it-“  
“-I appreciate the gesture, Avatar.”  
After a pause she added, “but it is difficult.”  
She retreated back into her chair, and her chin lowered with her eyes. Korra did not notice the rapid degeneration of her posture or her mood. She was distracted by the itch in her mind.  
“You can call me Korra. I can look past the Great Uniter, and you can look past the Avatar.”  
Korra held her hands open over the table, as if preparing to catch a heavy weight. But when nothing came her way, she softened, then relaxed and realized what she’d done.  
“Sorry. It just gets annoying.”  
The apology mitigated nothing. Kuvira was looking into her cuffed hands, and her hair had fallen forward to obscure her face. Korra saw the tremble in her body, and realized that perhaps she had gone farther than too far.  
“Kuvira?”  
“You weren’t there, Avatar.”   
When her face appeared again, Korra understood that it was time to listen, and offer nothing but support. Kuvira’s eyeslids batted against tidepools of tears that surged with every thought passing them. Her lips were just controlled enough to speak as they quavered.  
“Ba Sing Sei, Omashu, the Villages. We found- everywhere we went, we found these places. Bataar called them Avatariums. The soldiers called them lye sinks. People… In the Earth Kingdom, people thought the Avatar would come to save them, just like when Sozin’s comet passed. So they…”  
Kuvira stopped to steady her voice.  
“Look, what I did was awful. But you don’t know the mess I had to work with. We found a village that had died of thirst. All of their bodies were crammed together in a temple they had built… And sealed themselves in. They made a statue of you, and they scribbled their prayers into the walls. The people weren’t organizing. They weren’t fighting back. They were waiting for you to save them.”  
She did not resume eye contact until she was ready to finally assign that blame in person.  
“They were waiting for you. In every village, in every desperate mob of scavengers we recruited, there was always someone calling out your name. They prayed to you, Avatar.”  
Her restraints limited mobility. Kuvira brushed tears from her check with her shoulder. She calmed her breathing and continued.  
“When you went on vacation, you didn’t think about the void you left. Someone had to tell these people that you had abandoned them. You were gone. And someone had to protect them.”  
Korra’s wanted very badly to argue, to explain her absence, and to justify herself with excuses. She swallowed her pride this time.  
“You… Stopped a lot of evil,” she admitted.  
Kuvira’s breathing and tears continued.  
“You… You care a lot about the people in the Earth Kingdom. Did you visit it often?”  
“I was born there.”   
Her breathing heaved, but her tears dried. Korra mistook this for a positive development.   
“I thought you grew up in Zaofu, with Suyin.”  
Korra found a less-forced smile to offer. Kuvira struggled through her reply.   
“Well… I guess I did. It’s hard to remember, but… I met Suyin when I was eight. I… My parents… My parents, in Ba Sing Sei…”  
When her words seized up, Korra finally understood. Kuvira shook, her whole body trembling against the cuffs as she tried to escape. Korra offered a hand, then minded her own space when Kuvira retracted from her. She saw the once-great leader’s eyes focused intensely on something Korra didn’t want to see. And she understood, then, how Kuvira had read her so well. She understood then that Kuvira had shared a trauma just like hers.  
It took a long, quiet moment for Kuvira to return. When her shaking subsided, she avoided Korra’s gaze, casting only embarrassed and worried glances her way.  
“It’s… It’s ok if you don’t want to talk about it,” Korra whispered.  
She did. It was time, for her.  
“My parents sold me. You can’t understand what is was like, even when I escaped. We had to run until we were in the wild. Everyone who stopped to breathe got caught again. Even out there, we had to keep moving. The Dai Li sent an agent to chase us. There were bandits and more slavers. We never slept in the same place twice. We went days without food, even when we begged in the cities. The whole world I knew about was the life I was running from and stories about the Avatar. We thought…. We hoped Aang was going to save us. That was our only hope.”  
“Kuvira… You don’t have to do this.”  
“Please! Avatar, please, just listen.”  
But emotion was clouding her words again. Kuvira growled through a sob, then focused her breathing.  
Korra tried to focus her mind.   
“You said there were others who escaped with you?”  
Focusing on that moment was what Kuvira had requested. Korra felt trapped in perpetuating the other woman’s pain. Kuvira collected herself suddenly. She swallowed, and appeared to be meditating as she answered.  
“The oldest girl stood up for us until it killed her. Then I was the oldest.”  
Her eyes were still red, still pouring tears, but she struggled against them until she could continue.  
“He drove spikes through her hands, and left her pinned to the ground. Then he chased us into the desert. I never learned her name.”  
She practiced breathing. Korra watched, worried, curious, and fascinated.  
“There was another girl helping me drink from an oasis,” Kuvira continued.   
“She fell over, and I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t do anything. I just drank and slept until I could move again, and she never got up. The Dai Li agent found us again at the Oasis. He offered us food. Three of us ran.”  
Korra offered an objection, her palm opening as she asked, “They went with him? Back to… That?”  
Kuvira opened her eyes to glare. She cast in her gloom an intense aura of resentment. She was not looking at Korra. She was seeing the void that Aang had left.  
“You don’t know real hunger, Avatar. They made their choice because they knew I couldn’t protect them.”  
“But… You…”  
Korra was stopped again, by the shake of Kuvira’s head.  
“He kept chasing us. I… I didn’t know the bounty was mostly on me. We made it to a village. Hédào. The locals let us stay there. They fed us. I thought we were safe, so… We stayed until the Dai Li found us again. We tried to run, but… The river… We had to fight. Suyin was doing a training exercise with her militia nearby. They intervened, and… I survived.”  
Kuvira breathed herself free of the memory, finally dispelled of a weight she had carried for too long.  
“Thank you, Avatar,” she finished.  
Korra did not correct her. She was realizing that the failures of Kyoshi, Roku, and Aang were now hers to bear. She had failed the Earth Kingdom for four consecutive lifetimes. She had failed to protect the weak, to restore balance, to unite the society, and to bring equality.  
“Kuvira,” she whispered.  
The low and scared tone in her voice demanded the Great Uniter’s attention.  
“Kuvira, I think there has to be some punishment for what you’ve done.”  
Kuvira nodded as answer.  
“But I’m not going to let them kill you,” the Avatar promised.


	11. Chapter 11

A man named Qiang stood his post beside an elevator. He wore a white poncho, emblazoned with a lotus, and the lapels of an Earth Bender. In actuality, he had just certified as a metal bending instructor within the White Lotus. Qiang had spent two years patrolling Korra's sanctum at the South Pole. After that, his deployment changed to Air Temple Island. He was advised by a friend named Zhao to catch Korra's attention.  
“You're the same age, you're lonely, she's lonely.”  
“I don't know,” he'd said.  
Qiang shook his head at the memory. Korra had run off with the first guy she met. True, Mako was a famous athlete. But Qiang had talents, too. He could have shown off his metal bending. It would have cost him his job, but metal benders can get work anywhere. He could have been balls deep in the avatar.  
His sigh drew Zhao's attention.  
“You still thinkin' about Korra, Qiang?”  
“I shoulda done it, Zhao.”  
“Well you'd already bought the flowers, so yeah. Hang on, don't talk, I think this is my masterpiece.”  
Qiang turned to see his friend's work. Over his last three guard deployments, Zhao had become a master at sketching the human phallus. He stepped away from this one to appraise it.  
“Sublime Victory,” he named it, “cock with chalk on rock.”  
Zhao patted the chalk from his hands while Qiang nodded.  
“What's it bodyslamming?”  
“That giant robot thing in the city.”  
“Oh. Why are its pubes braided?”  
“They're- Y'know, like Avatar Korra's braids.”  
“The penis is Korra?”  
“Yeah. Korra slamming her big dick onto Kuvira's robot.”  
“I really appreciate the shading on the underside of the shaft,” Qiang noted.  
“Yeah, that actually took a while to master,” Zhao admitted, “but I learned from a waterbender when I was stationed at P'Li's hideout in the Northern-”  
“Yeah, you told me that story.”  
“Oh. Oh, right.”  
They both sighed and stared at the erectile display spanning the north wall of their antechamber.  
“Well, it's beautiful, Zhao.”  
“Thank you, Qiang. When's shift change?”  
“Seven Hours.”  
“Fuck.”  
Zhao returned the wall drapes to their position, covering his magnificent art, and they spent another two hours contemplating their poor life choices. It was then that Asami Sato arrived. Any visitor was exciting. A hot billionaire industrialist had them both standing at attention and hoping their uniforms were up to snuff.  
Her heels clacked and echoed when she stepped onto the elevator. Qiang took her side and tossed Zhao a thumbs up to release the elevator locks. Sato was facing forward, lost in her own thoughts, and missed as Zhao tossed back a thumbs up far more appreciative of her ass than of the situation.  
There was a clack. Then Qiang touched the elevator’s edge, and they descended at a controlled pace. He knew his place. He knew to keep his eyes straight ahead or otherwise diverted when he wasn’t giving a directive or reading a spiel. But Qiang broke his role, and his gaze at the wall ahead of them. He looked to Asami Sato.  
“Zaheer can roam the spirit world, can’t he? Even down here?”  
Asami had soft eyes. She nodded.  
“Yeah. Yes, we saw him in the spirit world.”  
Asami swallowed that hard truth and felt her nose, like pinching herself in a dream. The elevator deposited them in the ante-chamber. Two more metal benders met them there.  
“Approach the door,” Sato was instructed. It took two of the metal benders to open the portcullis. Qiang readied himself for howling spirit winds, just in case. Nothing. Sato stepped past the first portcullis to face the second. His spiel would be her last friendly contact.  
“Even with President Raiko's permission, your visit cannot exceed ten minutes. We can cancel your visit at any time. You have no privacy. Do not enter the radius of the metal ring that the prisoner stands inside.”  
“I understand,” she nodded.  
The metal benders released the portcullis behind her. Once it was closed, the one before her raised, and they watched from an observation deck down a hallway.  
Asami stepped into the chamber proper. From this distance, Zaheer was a mass of beard hair and ragged clothing. He hovered with his legs crossed in the position of a lotus. He did not appear to breathe, nor to need the air his weight rested upon.  
The man was statuesque. Asami 's breathing was all the motion in the room. Zaheer had yet to open his eyes. He was meditating, and no one had figured out how to rouse him, even for a meal. He hadn't eaten since his defeat, nor spoken since Korra's visit.  
“Do you know who I am?”  
Asami's voice was apparently what it took. Zaheer's eyes cracked.  
“You are a distinctive spirit, with a distinctive presence.”  
Asami swallowed.  
“Good. I know you've been in the spirit world for a while, but I'd like you to help me understand some human affairs.”  
“Of course.”  
His voice projected well, and echoed in the chamber. Qiang shook his head in the observation bay.  
“Can't believe this guy. 'Of course?' Really? Hasn't fuckin' helped anybody-”  
“Shh,” another guard hissed.  
Asami Sato placed a gloved hand on the hips of her Future Industries uniform.  
“You infiltrated the White Lotus. How?”  
That raised all eyebrows in the observation deck.  
“Do we intervene?” Qiang asked.  
“Maybe. Wait,” his superior murmured.  
“I assume this is related to the escape attempt that Kuvira is plotting,” Zaheer reasoned.  
Everyone, Asami included, knew that was more than an assumption. Zaheer had just let slip that he was talking to people in the spirit world- His people- And that they knew.  
“And I'm assuming that the Red Lotus would sooner kill her than release her,” Asami chided.  
“Then your goals are mine,” Zaheer agreed.  
“I will tell you the one flaw in the Operational Security of the White Lotus. But I am sorry to say that you walked a long way for what you already know.”  
His face remained stoic while Asami sighed.  
“You can only be betrayed by the people you trust,” she grumbled.  
“Precisely. The Red Lotus did not infect the White Lotus. We are merely the purists in an organization that has lost its focus. We exist, and will continue to exist within the White Lotus, because we are its most trusted members.”  
Asami turned her back on Zaheer.  
“That's a bold girl,” Qiang noted.  
“Nice ass,” another guard noted.  
Zaheer didn't peek. His face remained the same, expressionless, neutral. Even with Korra, he had shown some humanity. Here, he seemed intent on a stony expression.  
Asami had her next move. She turned and rounded on him with eyes brimming red.  
“How did you let go of P’li? You watched the woman you love die in front of you, and now you're... How could you let that go?”  
Here, Zaheer seemed to think. His expression remained neutral, but for once he spent a long time thinking about his answer.  
“It was not a struggle, as man against nature has been. To feel, to love, to have desires, are pieces of an identity we paint onto ourselves. We accept and wear these masks in hopes of achieving happiness, of seeking virtue or penance. We are granted these identities by the Mother of Faces, and we build upon them with ideas we gather through our lives. To not feel these pains, to remove my mask and revoke her gifts, to let go of my earthly tethers, was not a battle against nature. It was merely a decision.”  
“Deep shit, man,” a guard whispered.  
Qiang nodded.  
Asami was still thinking it over.  
“Do you still have nightmares?” she asked.  
“No.”  
“How do I let go?”  
“You are the one deciding to wear a mask. Simply remove it.”  
Zaheer closed his eyes and returned to the spirit world. The act was a presumption, that Asami would have no more questions that he would answer. Asami knew the stories about her subject. Zaheer had spent thirteen years being tortured, yet never uttered a single word to his captors. She snorted her frustration and returned to the portcullis. She stopped short of it to rub her eyes, then knocked. Qiang stayed to watch while the two metalbenders hustled to their post. It was only he who caught Zaheer's parting words.  
“I saw your mother in the spirit world. She's looking for you.”


	12. Chapter 12

Korra landed feet first and twirled her glider closed into a staff. She had to walk a few steps to knock on the door of Asami's mansion. In the brief delay it took for the servants to open, Korra was joined from behind by the owner.  
“Oh, hey Korra,” her friend smiled, “is something happening?”  
Korra muted the absolute glow of happiness that welled inside her. They'd been close in the spirit world, and she wasn't sure how sure she should be about their themness.  
“Hey, Asami. I finished talking to Kuvira.”  
“Anything new?”  
“Uh...”  
Korra thought through the intimate privacy of what Kuvira had shared. None of it was relevant to her escape.  
“No.”  
“Alright. Just stopping by?”  
“I just, uh- I mean, I- No. I don't know, I thought I'd just-”  
Asami stopped her with a kiss to the cheek, and a whispered, “You don't need an excuse to see me.”  
Korra stopped herself from seeking another kiss. She bit her lip, then pulled her mouth closed and nodded, unaware of just how red she'd turned.  
“Oh. Ok.”  
She followed Asami's swaying hips and curled smile through the front door.  
“So... Uh...” she tried.  
“Is it hot in here?” she didn't say.  
“Where's Mako's family?” didn't even occur to her.  
“I need you,” was tempting.  
“So... You talked to Zaheer,” struggled past her lips.  
“Yeah. He wasn't very helpful,” Asami groaned.  
She rolled her neck and squeezed her shoulders. Korra stopped herself from offering a massage.  
“Maybe I should try talking to him?”  
“No. He knows something. So he's going to keep it a secret. Otherwise-”  
Asami straightened her neck and placed a hand on Korra's shoulder.  
“Sweetie, I promise you, otherwise, I'd set you loose on him. I know you can take it. I just think he's a dead end. At least he gave away that the Red Lotus is involved. Let's just not talk about it anymore, OK?”  
Korra nodded, trusting with her gut that Asami was right.  
“Now, I think we both need to unwind. It's been a long day.”  
Asami turned away and paced across her foyer to the staircase. Korra stayed, nodding, a little disappointed.  
“Yeah. Yeah, uh, unwinding. It's, yeah, you're right. It's been a long day.”  
Asami stopped at the base of the stairs, examining the distance between them with a quizzical grin.  
“Oh,” Korra realized.  
Asami gestured for her to follow.  
“OH!”  
Korra sprinted, her face bursting with excitement, and swept up Asami in her arms as she leaped the whole length of the stairs.  
She turned left, while Asami pointed.  
“Wrong way!”  
Too late. Korra launched them up the second flight. It was a giggly kind of mistake. They were smiling and laughing as air whipped their hair. Then Korra saw Amon. He was standing atop that second flight, arms crossed and mask perpetually smiling with a secret. Her eyes widened, though her smile had no time to adjust.  
Instinct tugged the reigns in her head, and she twirled, airbending Asami safely to the ground while gouts of fire erupted from her feet. She landed facing away, and lifted water from the foyer fountain as she turned to face her nemesis.  
There was glass in front of Amon. The fire had scored it heavily, but not enough to occlude him. He had not moved. Korra checked her sides for Chi blockers. There were none. She focused on Amon, realizing suddenly that he was a mannequin inside a display case.  
She panted, then sighed, then returned the water to the fountain while Asami rejoined her atop the stairs.  
“Hey. Korra, it's ok. It's just his costume.”  
“No, I know, it just looked real, but-”  
“I get that there will be some adjustment for you-”  
“No, I mean it just looks really real, and I didn't really get a look at it, so I just didn't realize it wasn't really... Real...”  
They were facing. Korra's panting had invigorated Asami's desire to unwind, and the transformation in her body was now affecting Korra. The apologies and explanations trailed away. The moment extended, and for a long, pleasant moment, Korra realized she didn't need an excuse to stare at the most beautiful woman she knew.  
“You're on fire,” Asami warned her.  
“Oh.”  
Korra gestured the flames out on her boots. Then they met eyes again and laughed.  
“Why do you have... ?”  
Korra gestured to Amon's costume. Asami took her by the hand and brought her past it, to the door it was beside.  
“Well... don't freak out... But I picked up a creepy habit from my dad. A bit embarrassing, actually. I just, uh...”  
She opened the door, and brought Korra into a room with dim lighting. Pedestals were scattered throughout this gallery, under bright beams reserved just for them. Korra picked out a Varrick Industries motorcar that the Satomobile had outcompeted. Asami released her hand, and Korra took a few tentative steps towards a mannequin of Unalaq. A plate of platinum armor sat in a long, glass case, the foundry logo and Earth Empire symbol borne presenting. Korra recognized it from Kuvira's colossus.  
Then she turned, and came face to face with a full length mirror. It had been a long time since she'd seen her own face. She hadn't expected to encounter a light smile. Asami crept up behind her, a little trepidation and worry on her features.  
“It's a collection. My dad started it to gather the symbols of his defeated foes. I brought a piece of the colossus in here when he died. And then, I kind of added some of my own stuff. I thought... Well I mean, I knew it would look weird to other people. But it all felt close to my heart. I guess... I thought... If you want to be... I mean... You've accomplished a lot, too, and... Well...”  
She gestured out the door to Amon.  
“He's still alive,” Korra whispered.  
“Yeah. Yeah, I didn't know that when I had the costume made,” Asami admitted.  
Korra smiled, thinking about how nervous she'd been as she crafted a water tribe necklace with a Future Industries gear on it.  
“You did it for me,” Korra understood.  
Asami blushed, a happy tear brimming under either eye.  
“Yeah.”  
Her head rested on Korra's shoulder, and they looked each other in the eye through the mirror.  
“Who did this belong to?” Korra wondered.  
Asami smiled at a memroy.  
“Dad said it was a reminder that he could be his own worst enemy.”  
Asami wrapped an arm around Korra's belly, and squeezed her as if taking possession of her body. When her lips kissed under Korra's jaw, she did. Korra gulped.  
“Enough talk,” Asami whispered.  
Korra attempted to, but only managed a groan when the second kiss interrupted her. Sprinkles of energy played across the skin on her neck. Asami's off-hand tickled the far side of her face, and she kissed each finger that danced before her.  
She lost track of time and space, only coming to her senses again when Asami pulled away from a full kiss.  
“Bedroom,” Asami whispered.  
Korra nodded, panting, and they set off the right way. She considered firebending her clothes off. She knew that Asami had a whole wardrobe she could borrow from. Fumbling her clothes loose was a sign of restraint.  
Somehow, Asami was able to strip herself in just three delicate motions of the wrist. Her clothing poured down her like water from marble.  
Korra whimpered at the sight, then approached her waiting form, panting. She felt excitement, and a little fear at the creature of beauty before her. But she also felt trust, and comfort. So when Asami whispered, “Close your eyes,” she only peeked twice before obeying.  
Asami guided her to the bed and had her sit, then wrapped herself around Korra like a backpack. She drew her fingers up Korra's thighs, then up her belly, slowing as Korra stretched and arched to expand the distance Asami could cover.  
Asami cupped under Korra's breasts and slid her fingers over the shape to meet at her nipples, then palmed them and slid up her chest to disperse all the pleasure she'd gathered over Korra's shoulders.  
Korra fell back into Asami's big spoon, the moment and its intensity suddenly relieving her.   
“Feel your Chi paths open?”  
“Yeah,” Korra sighed.  
“Should I do it again?”  
Korra nearly cried.  
“I wanna touch you, too.”  
Asami giggled while Korra spun in her hug and kissed all the skin she could reach, straddling over Asami in the aggression of her need. Asami made agile work sliding her fingers into the gap Korra allowed in that motion, and she ducked the next kiss and licked up Korra's neck as her fingers made contact. Korra's outburst was a happy reward for that skillful touch. Asami had the Avatar shivering through her whole body and dancing at the wiggle of her fingers. She had power that Empresses fantasized about.  
“Stop,” Korra finally begged, and Asami's smiled became unstoppable. Her fingers stilled, and she brushed her palm over Korra's quivering thighs while their lips hovered inches from each other.  
“I love you,” Asami whispered.  
“I love you so much,” Korra whispered back.  
Even the light brushing inside her thighs was making her jump with pleasure as it progressed. Their sex was a drug carrying Korra far, far away from pain. Asami cupped her lover's face in her hands. She let her smile be the cloud that Korra came down from her high onto.  
Korra's eyes opened, then uncrossed, then focused on Asami as her breathing steadied.  
“You're really good at this,” she whimpered.  
“Maybe... We should slow down a bit,” Asami suggested.  
Korra nodded and sobbed at the power of her happiness. Asami rolled them onto their sides, then bigspooned Korra for a second time. She trailed palms instead of fingers over her skin, and kissed her back instead of her neck.  
“Is this a tattoo, Korra?”  
“What? Oh,” she remembered, “No, it's Raava. Spirits leave scars when they-”  
She'd uttered a whole sentence. Asami knew from that, that she'd given Korra too much time to recover. A nibble on her ear, then a slide to lick her jaw corrected that.  
Korra finished her words with a moan, and Asami's smile grew to consume her features. Her hands wrapped around Korra's hips, forward over her form, and slid between her legs to make a diamond just around her.  
Korra writhed in anticipation, even bringing her hands down to force Asami's upon her. The diamond was a strong shape that resisted those tugs well. Asami held her ground, watching Korra intently, and positively beaming with satisfaction when Korra used her own hands to get what she was seeking.  
Asami pressed her lips just against Korra's ear.  
“You know what you’re doing. Had a lot of spare time at the South Pole?”  
“Yeah,” Korra gasped.  
Her eyes crossed and closed again. Her fingers set to work with all the fervor of fire. She could swear Asami had ten hands on her, writhing over all of her body and stirring her into an inferno.  
“How many hands do you have?” she moaned.  
Asami laughed.  
“And you still have that touch of innocence. Do you remember your first time?”  
“Uh huh. Nnnnnnnnnnnn.”  
Asami pried Korra's hands away from her. She slid down the Avatar's side, kissing the whole way, and pushed Korra's leg up for room to bring about a finale.  
“Cold place. How did you do it?” she breathed between kisses.  
Asami slid off of the bed, and pulled Korra's hips just to the side. Korra could no longer keep her eyes closed. She watched Asami drag her cheek across the inside of her thighs, kissing slowly higher and higher, her eyes holding Korra's. Her lips stopped short of Korra's, and she blew against them to send shivers through Korra's whole body.  
“W-w-w-well, I- I used to… hah… Ahhhh… I can feel your breath.”  
“You used to what, Korra?”  
Asami's faux innocence made them both giggle.  
“I... When I- oh, oh, oh- I used to.... To curl up against Naga like, like a big pillow and-”  
Her words completely seized up when Asami's patience ended. Korra spread her knees and held her breath as her whole body curled around the force of Asami diving into her. She knew she'd picked a girl with a silver tongue, but she didn't realize it could control her whole body. Her next breath was a scream. Unwinding was what Asami had called it. She felt like a metalbender's repelling cable, coiled to strike, then suddenly extended in a single flourish.  
Her whole body felt like a waking limb, static and pleasure and electricity leaping across her limbs and through her heart. She panted, dizzy, crying, and spent.  
She said the only word she could remember.  
“Asami. Asami. Asami.”  
Her face appeared, wet with her work, and they kissed with their bodies embraced.  
“Like that?” Asami mumbled through the contact.  
“No. Not even a little,” Korra giggled.  
Her gaze was distracted as is passed over a clock. She was of no mind to count, but the numbers seemed a bit unusual.  
“Oh. Oh my gosh, Asami, it's morning. It's, I kept you up- Your company-”  
Asami stopped her from sitting up, then pulled away from her suddenly, keeping her arms pinned. Her look was still that of a lover, and loving, but she'd added a touch of serious to it.  
“I love you more than I could ever love my company, Korra. Loving you is part of my identity. Being Asami Sato means being in love with Avatar Korra. You hear me?”  
She released Korra, who used her hands only to hold Asami's face.  
“And I love you, Asami.”


	13. Chapter 13

“Ok,” Søren began, “So, I know this looks bad. Just- Koko? Koko, I need you to look at me. Look. Right here. You can trust me on this. I’m not Amon.”  
Søren followed this claim by replacing his- Amon’s- Mask on his face, and then pushing through a door. Koko expressed no confidence in that claim. But by following him through the door, she demonstrated either faith or an indistinguishable amount of commitment to him.  
She'd been naked at the police station, but between there and this hideout, she had thrown enough of a fit that Søren detoured their troupe to the ship. She was in uniform now, Kyoshi's visage corrected and armor in place. Despite her obvious control over him, the Equalists continued obeying his orders. This, Koko reasoned, was the result of discipline. It was the result of the Equalists seeing their leader in him.  
Yet she trusted him. Koko felt her actions as if watching someone else be stupid. It wasn’t comfortable, but she had borne many discomforts without revealing them. So she stood, posture erect, fists balled at her side like a soldier.  
In front of her was Søren, disguised very convincingly as Amon. And in front of him was an assembly of Chi Blockers and equalists. She guessed at around one thousand. The room was a theater at some point, but had been abandoned when a spirit vine decided to occupy most of the seating area. Downtown belonged exclusively to people seeking discretion. So now the Equalists owned this building.  
“It has been too long,” Søren began.  
The assembly cheered. Koko glared at them and crossed her arms. She was imagining a picture of herself on this stage reaching her great aunt Suki back on the island. She'd been warned about picking her friends wisely.  
“I know you have all waited for this moment, and have hoped that your brothers would not give in to the meager pittances we non-benders have received. But after last night’s operation, no one can deny that Amon has returned. No one can deny that the demand for equality can be enforced. When last we made ourselves known, innocents by the thousands were made to vanish by our oppressors. For five, long years, we have been told that they disappeared- that they vanished- that the establishment has no knowledge of what happened. We already knew they were lying. Now, we can prove it.”  
He had held his hands in concealment, left wrist gripped in his right hand. And within his left hand was gripped a manila envelope bearing the seal of the Republic City Council. He revealed it now, held it high so that his officers tilted their heads to look up at it.  
“We will return these vanished persons to their families, and we will return the question of their vanishing! Return to your homes and rouse your comrades! Tune your radios to the frequencies you remember. Ignite your signal fires and when the heart of our cause beats, ensure that it is felt around the world! ”  
The crescendo of cheers was Søren's cover. He bowed his head and folded his hands behind his back, then waited until the curtains were closed before him to turn and walk off stage with Koko.  
Two Chi blockers followed them onto the crew floor behind the stage, then back into the privacy of a maintenance room. The two Chi Blockers took the position of guards at the door.  
Inside the maintenance room, three men were awaiting them. Koko recognized them all as fellow escapees from the police station. Søren tossed the manila envelope into a trashcan, and held the same hand out to receive a pamphlet. He cast a glance over it. Koko recognized that it was an infographic with the title “Republic City Oppressors” and pictures of the council members.  
Before she could ask, the Equalist who had a whole stack explained. He glanced her way as he did.  
“We re purposed this one from the Earth Empire propaganda. Same pattern, different colors, and we replaced the Earth seal with the mask. The print time slot's already rented, so we figured we might as well use it.”  
“Do it,” Søren agreed.  
The first man nodded and stepped back. A second man stepped forward.  
“Next up is a plan awaiting your approval from one of the higher cells. Op Kuvira. We bumped into them last night. They want your blessing for a strike against a cop named Mako.”  
“And?”  
“He's friends with the Avatar.”  
Amon- Søren, Koko reminded herself- drew his fingers to his mask, and appeared to be recovering from a staggering blow.  
“Rule number one,” was all he said.  
The Equalists all looked to each other with some concern.  
“Amon, I understand the new organization and rules. But we joined this cause to be bold!”  
“Rule, Number, One,” Søren repeated.  
“I understand. I'll pass that on.”  
“I want to hear you say it,” Søren hissed.  
The hollow voice his mask produced sent a chill over Koko's shoulders. She resisted shaking it free, and dusted her leather armor instead. In moving, she had reminded the men that she, a Kyoshi warrior, was standing in the room with them.  
One of them pointed, about to ask about her, when Søren cut him off.  
“Do not. Fuck. With the Avatar.”  
The men nodded.  
“Rule number one: Do not fuck with the Avatar. I'll pass that on, Amon.”  
“Thank you. Now, on to the Tarrlok documents. We have the proof here that every one of these names is a person who was arrested and extradited without trial. We have evidence linking almost every politician in the nation to this miscarriage of justice. But we have only one chance to make the people hear this unpleasant truth.”  
Søren gripped the Propaganda graphic in both hands and tore it into thirds.  
“As I see it, this information needs to be spread in three waves. First,” he handed a piece to one man, “We must incite outrage at the illegal arrests and extraditions of United Republic Citizens. We can drive this by pinning faces to the act itself. Councilman Tarrlok may be gone, but Saikhan is not.”  
He handed away a second piece.  
“Second, we must wait until the people are calling for answers, and we must give their elected leaders a chance to lie, before we answer. The second wave of information will be the channels by which they disappeared. The shipping logs. The pay stubs of their escorts. The names of men who were just doing their jobs. Once the people know where to look, everyone who is looking for anyone will see hope in that investigation.”  
He handed away the last piece of the pamphlet.  
“After phase two, we release the names of the missing. By then, we should have the attention of the whole world. How's that for bold?”  
No one met his eyes for a while. The infographic designer paced and stared at the floor in thought. The second man simply looked nervous. The third sifted through the actual documents, what Søren had pretended to have in a single envelope. The real information took up six crates.  
“Hmm... A lot of names. Maybe pamphlets won't be the best distribution meth-”  
“Did you steal that?”  
Everyone turned to Koko, whose mind had suddenly reconciled last night's blackout with her horrible morning.  
All eyes glanced from her to Amo- Søren, she reminded herself.  
“They were... in the police station,” one of the men admitted, “and now they're not.”  
He glared at her as if asking her allegiance. Koko considered herself neutral. She wasn't a cop, a bender, or a civil rights activist. She was a Kyoshi warrior who ran away to see the world, and was only settling down out of necessity. Their rule number 1 made them immune to her bad side. But she did have a concern in the room.  
“Do you guys have ranks?”  
She saw in their exchanged glances that she was fundamentally ignorant about their movement. One man turned his palms and eyebrows up in a grimace. Koko protected herself from the critiques by crossing her arms.  
“Who the fuck-”  
“No-”  
“-How'd you even get in here?”  
“She's an honored guest,” Amon- Søren- assured them.  
Koko released a hand from her arm-crossing to gesture at Søren.  
“So why are you all taking his orders?”  
“Because he's Amon,” the Equalists said in unison.  
There was a long quiet, followed by a long sigh from Søren.  
“You're all dismissed,” he grumbled.  
The three men were quick to file out. Koko kept her arms crossed when they were gone, and squared her shoulders at Søren as he removed the mask.  
“Oh, I bet I'm gonna love this,” she predicted.  
“Ok,” Søren began, “So, I know this looks bad. Just- Koko? Koko!”


End file.
